


How To Train Your Teacher

by tygermine



Category: Bandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travis needs to pass English in order to graduate. Gabe is his English teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Train Your Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, terrible summary, but what can you do? Its the high school AU I've been writing for ages and finally finished it for Bandom Big Bang 2011. serious kudos and love must go to my beta alles_luege - she held my hand, listened to my rants and helped me figure out how to push past the writers block. Thank you!!! Also a few warnings - the characters are failboats at maturity. I also may have shredded Anne Rice's Cry to Heaven. Mix and art are at my LJ post.

**How To Train Your Teacher**

 **A High School AU - because everyone needs to write one at some stage in their lives.**

 

"Dude, how the fuck did you end up with an A in English?" asked Frank.

 

The boys were sitting outside in the sun, comparing report cards and sneaking cigarettes. The summer vacation was a week away and plans had to be made.

 

Travis shrugged. "What can I say? I’m Shakespeare, motherfuckers." He tried to hide the smirk that threatened to expose him.

 

"But I'm her son and I don't even get a B," Frank continued to whine. It was true, Mrs Iero was a hard ass. She was also single and looking fine for her forty odd years. Travis licked his lips.

 

"At least you passed English," grumbled Gerard from beside Frank. "My mom is going to kick my ass."

 

"You only passed art?" Frank guessed

 

"And science," Gerard scrunched up his nose in confusion.

 

"You know what - fuck it." Travis stood up. "Next year we're seniors. It'll be a breeze."

 

"Speak for yourself," muttered Frank.

 

"Where you going?" asked Gerard squinting up at Travis.

 

"I've got some people to see about some pharmaceuticals they want to procure. See you losers later." Travis stretched out his six foot odd lanky frame before setting off across the field. He nodded at the boys walking towards him. "Mikey," he greeted as they passed.

 

"Hey, Travis! Heard you aced English again," called Mikey.

 

"I'm the master! Yo!" Travis crowed over his shoulder.

 

Mrs Iero's classroom was right at the end of the corridor, on the second floor, overlooking the science building. Travis ambled up to the door and rapped out a coded tattoo on the frame.

 

His English teacher was sitting at her desk, reading an essay from one of her sophomore classes. She looked up and smiled widely as Travis sauntered into the room.

 

"Mrs Iero," he smiled widely.

 

"Mr McCoy. Is there anything you wanted?" she asked, playing coy.

 

"I got my results," he licked his lips as his eyes travelled up his teacher's body, from delicate ankle to slender neck. Mrs Iero must work out, he decided. She was a hot mama beneath that English teacher veneer. "I just wanted to show you my appreciation for the A."

 

Mrs Iero smirked. "Really? And what did you have in mind?"

 

He held out his hand and pulled her up against his tattooed chest.

 

"Oh, I was thinking a few orgasms wouldn't go down too badly." By now, he had her pressed against the blackboard, her legs hooked around his waist.

 

"Mr McCoy, this is not the time or place," she scolded lightly, as she tightened the hold she had around his waist.

 

"I've never been good with tenses," he purred against the skin of her neck, making her shiver. His right hand slid down her thigh towards her hips, pushing up the dark blue skirt as he went.

 

A loud bang broke them apart.

 

"Travis," she hissed. "I'll see you later. Usual place." She ran her hands down her clothes, trying to smooth them out.

 

"Later then," Travis nodded and snuck out the classroom.

 

 

“What do you mean you’re moving?”

 

Gerard and Frank were sitting on the front porch of his house. Frank was slouched over, his head almost lost between his knees. The world was ending. Every minute it ticked over to the time he and his mom were going to climb into their shitty Ford station wagon and trek out to Seattle.

 

“Did you know it rains nine months of the year in Seattle?” Mikey was sitting on the railing, sucking on a freezie. His lips and tongue were dark green.

 

“Not helping Mikey,” groaned Frank from his almost foetal position on the porch steps.

 

“This sucks ass,” Gerard grumbled, digging out his pack of stolen Marlboros. What? His mom had a whole carton in the cupboard. He lit one and handed it to Frank, before lighting one for himself.

Frank nodded his thanks, sucked deeply on the cigarette and exhaled through sulking lips. “Seattle. What the fuck ever came out of Seattle?”

“Nirvana.”

“Still not helping, Mikey.”

“Dude. Its only for a year. Then you’ll be back here for college,” reasoned the younger Way.

“Hola my brothas,” Travis came skulking up the sidewalk, lazy grin spread across his face. “What’s with the emo brigade?”

Two sullen faces squinted up at him, while Mikey continued to eat the freezie.

“Frank’s moving to Seattle,” Mikey explained when his brother and Frank went back to moping.

Travis felt his stomach drop slightly.

“Seattle? When?” he asked.

“Next week.” Supplied Mikey.

“Shit!” Frank was moving. Which meant his mom was moving. Which meant that next year he’d have to either start studying or seduce whichever teacher they were assigned to. He prayed that the new teacher would at least be a woman. And hot.

“I think I have a solution to your problem, Frank,” Travis reached into his pocket and pulled out an ounce.

“Weed?” Gerard suddenly perked up.

“Not just any weed. Hydroponic heaven. In herbal form,” Travis explained. He had originally planned to head out to the skate park and see if Nate and Disashi were trying to kill themselves by doing jackassed stunts. But suddenly smoking a bowl with the Ways and Frank seemed like a far better idea. Besides, Mikey Way stoned was funnier than anything Disashi could dream up to inflict on himself.

The boys moved out of the summer heat and into the cool confines of the Way basement to smoke all of Travis’ weed and demolish Mama Ways’ supply of vodka. It was, after-all, a special occasion. Depressing, but special.

The summer flew by in a blur of stoner arguments over which of the Chipmunks was gay and skating accidents that had Travis driving Nate and Disashi to the emergency room more than once. Gerard only left his basement to buy more vodka and Mikey, well, Mikey just rolled with it all.

Until he and Travis had the munchies and walked into the local yoghurt shop and he fell over himself and in love with the girl behind the counter. So chilled Mikey became lovesick Mikey which didn’t sit well with Gerard, who had turned moping into an art.

“Heard anything from Frank lately?” asked Mikey as they congregated in the basement on the last day of summer vacation. It smelled worse than ever. Mouldy damp mixed with rancid ‘dude’ with a touch of spilled booze and the constant cloud of smoke skirting the ceiling. Travis and Disashi were killing hookers and stealing cars between smoking it up and drinking more than what is considered ideal. Nate was conspicuously absent. He had muttered something about seeing a guy about a dog, even though everyone knew he was allergic to dogs.

Gerard, or rather the Gerard shaped pile of dirty clothes groaned and a pale face emerged from the mess, dirty hair hanging over bloodshot eyes.

“He called me this morning. Apparently his mom got a job at some private catholic school. He was bitching about the uniform and the rules.”

“No eyeliner allowed?” guessed ‘Sashi “Fuck! Travie! That was my dealer you rode over. Asshole.”

Travis wasn’t really paying attention to Disashi. Instead, his ears pricked at the mention of Frank’s mom. This brought back a dilemma he had very successfully avoided thinking about the whole summer.

How the fuck was he going to pass English if he wasn’t going to have Mrs Iero giving him A’s in Language, Grammar and Cunnilingus? A rubix cube of problems right there. It made Travis long for another joint.

“No eyeliner. No piercings. No tattoos. Nothing.” Mikey seemed to sum it up. “Man, that sucks ass.”

“No shit,” replied Gerard, curling back into his huddle.

“Gee. No. You need to get up. We’ve got school tomorrow.” Mikey walked over to his brother and began pulling at various pieces of material, hoping to grab hold of a limb.

“What’s the point?” mumbled Gerard.

“The point is, you have a few months left of school then you can get the fuck out of dodge,” said Disashi, chocolate eyes bright with vodka.

“Or out of the basement, at least,” Mikey added.

“Travis! You’re not paying attention to the game! You do realize that undermines my value as a decent competitor,” whined Disashi. Yeah, his parents were shrinks and yeah, he actually spoke like that.

Travis shook himself out of his mental quandary and tried to give his friend a decent round. After he smashed his second car, he threw the controller on the ground, muttered a ‘fuck this shit.’ And promptly left the basement with two pairs of bewildered eyes following him. Gerard couldn’t really give a fuck.

 The next morning, Travis rolled out of bed, into yesterday’s clothes, dug his bookbag out from under his bed and ambled off to school. Sure, he was a senior now, but it didn’t help that he was going to fail English on his ass and be kept back – indefinitely. As he entered the school gates, he saw himself lurching up the stairs one day when he’s 70, walking frame hindering his progress. All because Mrs Iero moved away.

Bitch. He thought sullenly walking up to where Gerard and Mikey were leaning against the gym wall. Gerard had his nose buried in a comic book while Mikey was making puppy eyes at yoghurt shop girl standing with her friends.

“Yo,” Travis greeted them, dropping his bag at their feet.

Gerard shrugged a greeting while Mikey ignored him.

“Hey Travie. Haven’t seen you since yesterday. Aren’t you excited that we’re seniors this year?” Travis replied to himself sarcastically ending off with an equally sarcastic smile.

Mikey broke his adoring gaze and turned to him. “You say something?”

“Forget it,” Travis mumbled. “I’m gonna go to my locker. See you bitches at lunch.”

He left the brothers and wandered down the corridor to his locker, still thinking about how he’ll have the same locker when he’s 80 and haven’t graduated high school yet. He rounded the corner, eyes trained on his sneakers when suddenly he was looking at the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” he slurred in surprise.

“Watch where you’re going.” Came a voice from above him. Travis looked to his left and there stood a really tall young man. He quickly got to his feet.

“Listen here man, it’s the first day of school. Don’t fuck me off. I’ll make your year hell,” Travis growled at the new guy. Obviously some new transfer who needed to know his place.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to threaten teachers.” The guy shrugged.

“Teachers? I’m not threatening any teachers. Just some little nerd who thinks he suddenly owns the school on his first day.”

Behind the thick rimmed Buddy Holly style glasses, the nerd just raised an eyebrow. “I’ll see you in class,” he said and walked off. The bell rang right above Travis’ head giving him ringing ears and a dull headache just behind his eyes. He ran to the office, collected his timetable from the secretary who gave him the evil eye. Jesus! It’s only the first day of school.

Checking his schedule, Travis saw he had history first thing. He was already ten minutes late so he decided to cut the entire class. He hid behind the science lab and pulled out a joint. He lit it and sucked the arid smoke down as if it was water.

“You are my only friend.” He spoke to his joint, holding it up. “You’re the only one that understands how shitty my life is today. And being the good friend you are,” he inhaled again. “You are the only one to make it better,” he squeaked out.

“Cutting class to smoke weed. Isn’t that a bit clichéd?”

Travis looked up and saw the nerd from earlier standing over him.

“Was late already. Might as well ditch until my next class,” he replied, the weed dulling his earlier frustration at the guy. He handed the joint over, but the guy declined.

“What’s your next class?” he asked as Travis toked the joint until it was a stump clenched between his index finger and thumb.

“English,” he gritted out, trying to hold in the smoke.

“Me too. I’ll walk you there.” The guy smiled.

Travis peered up at him, eyes red from the THC. **“** What? Are we going steady or somethin’?” he slurred.

The guy shrugged. “If you want. But I warn you – I don’t put out on the first date.”

Travis stumbled to his feet. “Neither do I. Also, I prefer boobs.”

“Come on.” The guy turned back towards the school. “Let’s go.”

Travis nodded, picked up his book bag and followed the guy back to class. He was still so caught up in his weed smog, he didn’t notice the bell ringing or that the guy standing by him was unlocking the door to the class. He just moseyed in and took a seat at the back of the class, slumping low in his desk, eyes sliding closed.

“Morning everyone. Welcome to senior English.”

Travis jerked awake at the booming voice that filled the classroom. He saw that the class had filled up and the guy he offered the joint to, was standing in front of the class.

“I’m Mr Saporta.”

And he was Travis’ English teacher.

Fuck just wasn’t going to cover what Travis was feeling at that moment. He felt something far more creative was called for.

Something like: STUPIDGODDAMNEDUMBSHITMOTHAFUCKA!

Maybe it was the weed, or maybe Travis had a legitimate reason to be paranoid. He spent the whole lesson waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Mr Saporta to jump onto Gerard’s desk, to his right, and loom over Travis shouting “You smoke weed, Mr McCoy. Its against the school rules. DETENTION FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR!”

Travis whimpered at the thought and slunk lower in his seat. He might as well join Frank at that catholic prison. He’d probably live to see his graduation then.

Halfway through the lesson, Travis was ready to have a coronary. He flinched every time someone dropped a pencil, felt his muscles tense up every time Mr Saporta glanced at him and nearly jumped a foot in the air when Gerard threw a note at him.

“Mr McCoy!” Saporta’s voiced boomed across the class.

“Ye…” Travis cleared his throat trying to kill the squeak it emitted. “Yes. Sir?”

“The answer?” Saporta raised an eyebrow, this eyes glaring at Travis from behind his glasses.

“To… the… uh…question…” Travis stumbled over his words “Which was…uh…”

Saporta had moved to two desks in front of Travis, arms crossed over his multi coloured waistcoat and white shirt. Travis was sure he saw the glint of a pocket watch amongst the riot of colour that was the waistcoat. Nate sat in the front row and had turned in his seat to enjoy Travis’ discomfort. Disashi nudged Nate and held up his notepad, on which was scribbled in sharpie.

Before Travis could process what he had read, he blurted out. “The question… who wants my c-c-cock?”

The class burst into giggles. Even Gerard who had been staring at his desk the whole lesson let a small smile onto his face.

“Mr McCoy. I’m sure the entire cheerleading squad is salivating for your…cock.” Saporta let the word roll off his tongue, sending a shiver down Travis’ spine. He decided not to read into it. “But my original question was – What is your favourite play? That’s assuming you know what a play is.”

Saporta stared him down, sunlight glinting slightly off his glasses, daring Travis to fuck up. He decided to try and salvage the situation and glanced at Gerard for some help. His friend kept his eyes on his desk, completely ignoring the situation brewing around him, tracing designs onto his notebook. Travis thought quickly back to when he was in New York during the vacation. What Broadway shows did he see posters for?

His mind blanked out. Fuck!

He licked his lips nervously before looking up at his teacher.

“Uh…uh…Kiss me, Kate?”

Saporta just nodded, obviously happy with Travis’ answer.

“Way!” he called over his shoulder as he walked back to the front of the class. Gerard shot up as if electrocuted.

“Yes?”

“Do you know what play Mr McCoy’s musical is based on?” Saporta was obviously enjoying the boy’s squirming.

“Dude! How the fuck was I supposed to know Kiss Me, Kate was a musical?” Travis sulked over lunch.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you got a fucking A last year for your project on the progression of classical theatre from the Elizabethan era to present,” Gerard pointed out. “And then you said your favourite play was Pygmalion.”

“Well, duh. But how was I supposed to remember a name like Pygmalion when the guy was staring me down?” Travis tried to defend.

“You do know that Pygmalion is actually My Fair Lady,” Mikey pointed out.

“Something you want to tell us?” Nate asked, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Pack it in, or I will cut you off,” Travis warned. “Besides. It’s not gay. Right?” He looked to Gerard for support.

“Don’t look at my brother for support. His favourite play is Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Mikey said around a mouth full of pastrami and mustard sandwich.

“So Saporta’s quite the…uh…cock?” Disashi was thoroughly enjoying Travis squirming.

“He’s an asshole,” Travis tried to shut them down, but alas, Mikey prevailed.

“Yeah, but it’s his ass you want.”

“Speak again little Way and I will end you,” Travis was starting to develop a migraine. “Fuck all of you. I’m outta here.” With that, he flounced – in the straightest way possible- out of the cafeteria and to his favourite spot behind the science building to have his second joint of what was promising to be his worst day alive – ever. In fact, this day was turning out worse than the day he was fourteen and was forced to stand up and recite a poem for English after staring down Melissa De Couma’s shirt all lesson. It wasn’t his fault the girl didn’t wear a bra!

He lit up his joint and inhaled deeply, enjoying the burn in his lungs. The world started to slip away and he lay back against the wall. Fucking Saporta. Fucking English. Fucking School. Fucking Universe. Yep, Travis was on a roll.

Surprisingly enough, it was Gerard that sat down beside him, quiet in the face of Travis’ obvious rage. Travis handed the joint over to his friend who took it with a nod of thanks.

“What’s your problem with Saporta? Its only the first day of school,” Gerard finally asked, ignoring the school bell ringing in the distance.

“He’s a jack ass,” Travis sulked.

“I think we’ve established that. Why is he being a jack ass to you?” Gerard pressed

“I did something really stupid,” Travis admitted “He found me behind the science building and I offered him a toke.”

Gerard burst into giggles. “Seriously? You offered a teacher your joint?”

“I didn’t know he was a teacher! Does he look like a teacher?”

Gerard contemplated Travis’ argument.

“See? He dresses like an art maths nerd. Stupid waistcoats and shit,” Travis defended.

“I’m wondering why he didn’t report you.”

“Cos he’s a sadist. He has dirt on me and wants to use it. Asshole.”

Gerard just nodded and finished the joint, putting it out against the tree. The two stayed there until school let out for the day.

Travis lay in bed that night turning over his conversation with Gerard. So Saporta had blackmail material on him. Well then, the only thing to do was get some dirt on Mr I-Wear-Technicolour-waistcoats. Easy. There was only one person Travis knew who was evil enough to know how to help him.

“You want me to do what?”

“Shhh Mikey. I don’t want the whole school to know!” Travis glanced around nervously.

“Travis. You have lost your mind. Definitely.” Mikey crossed his arms over his chest.

“Mikey. This is serious! I can’t have Saporta riding my ass all year….Shuddup.”

Mikey snorted a quick laugh.

“Come on.” Travis was not above begging. **“** I can pay you.” Or bribery.

Mikey eyed his desperate friend carefully, weighing up his asking price to help.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Travis tried really hard not to squee with delight.

“What do you want me to do?” Travis asked, eager to get on with it.

“You do nothing. Actually. Go to my house. Make sure Gerard doesn’t strangle himself with the telephone cord while talking to Frankie.” The last phone call had Gerard wrapped up like a burrito and it took Mikey half an hour to undo the tangles while Gerard whined about the state of the world. Or something like that.

“I can’t come with?” Travis tried not to sulk.

“No. This is a solo mission. Go. Watch the emo boy in the basement.” Mikey pointed towards the school entrance.

“Fine. Thanks man.” Travis almost hugged Mikey right there, but he preferred to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Dude. How long before vacation? What do you mean you’re not coming over? Your mom’s taking you where? Camping? What the fuck?” Gerard was lying on the couch, the telephone cord already snaking its way around his ankles.

Travis sat on the recliner next to him and tried to concentrate on the episode of Gossip Girl currently gracing the large TV in the living room. He tried to change the channel to something less nauseatingly sweet but Gerard thwarted his plans by sticking the remote down his pants. Gerard watched Gossip Girl religiously. Who knew?

Still, it’s not like Gerard was actually watching the damn show. He was too busy whining to Frank about how life sucks.

Huh.

Travis still maintained that his life sucked on a far higher level.

The telephone cable was already at Gerard’s waist when Mikey finally sauntered through the front door. Travis was on him like a bad rash.

“So? What did you find? Is he a serial killer. I bet he’s a serial killer. Or is it kiddy porn? He did have that kiddy porn vibe about him.” Travis couldn’t talk fast enough.

“Sorry dude. I gotta go. Travis is having a meltdown in my living room. Yeah. He’s convinced the new English teacher is into necrophilia. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Gerard hung up.

Mikey was taking this far too calmly, ignoring the ranting Travis and instead, weaving his way to the kitchen for a bottle of well earned coke and some cheetos.

Gerard and Travis followed the younger Way into the kitchen, positioning themselves on the other side of the counter.

Mikey looked up from his cheetos.

“Wha?” he asked, mouth full of orange tartrazine.

“What dirt did you get on Saporta?” Travis needed to know.

Mikey shrugged. “Nothing much. Has a nice girlfriend, drives a nice car, lives down the road and has a pet cobra. You know, the usual.”

Pet Cobra? Travis and Gerard seemed to mindmeld at that moment.

“What the Fuck?” they spluttered.

“A cobra?”

“A girlfriend?”

Ok, so maybe not complete mindmeld, but still, a shared sense of weird.

“Mikey. You’re telling me this guy is clean?”

“Well, in a Stepford sense.” Mikey sprayed some cheeto crumbs onto Travie’s shirt.

“Not good enough little Way. We need serious dirt on this guy.” Travis was going for desperate, and it seemed to be working.

“You want us to stalk him?” Mikey eyed Travis from behind his wire rimmed specs.

“If that’s what it takes.” Travis nodded

“Unlike you two losers, I have a life. So stalk on your own time, not mine.” Mikey left them in the kitchen and went up to his room. The internet awaited him.

Gerard watched his brother leave the room before grabbing a coke from the fridge.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

Travis could only nod.

Gerard sighed. “Fine. We’ll go tonight.”

Travis began to grin.

“You’re posting bail if we get caught.” Gerard pointed out.

The two intrepid would-be spies decided to meet in the park around nine. Travis arrived at 8:30 and smoked two joints to keep his heart attack at bay. Gerard arrived at 9 exactly, not really dressed for the occasion.

“You own more black clothes than anyone I know and you choose to wear your Spiderman t-shirt? Dude, what the hell?” Travis bitched.

“Back off Barbie. I’m doing you a favour. Besides, it’s my lucky shirt.”

“If you get lucky wearing that shirt, then the world is in worse shape than I thought.”

Gerard flipped him off.

“Come on.” Travis led them towards Saporta’s house, having gleaned the address off Mikey earlier that day.

There was nothing impressive about the house. Split level ranch style, double garage, nice garden. Normal. It’s middle classness making it blend in perfectly with the neighbourhood.

Travis had embraced the whole spy notion of his mission and was leopard crawling and sprinting between houses until they got to Saporta’s house.

Blocks of light from the windows lit up the front yard forcing the two to creep up against the wall in the shadows.

They crawled until they were under the large living room window. Travis pointed to Gerard then the window. Gerard frowned and shook his head. Travis sighed and carefully leaned up until he could see over the sill. He slid back down next to Gerard a second later, his eyes huge.

Gerard quickly leaned up and snuck a peak and returned to the ground, eyes as big as Travis’.

The boys made it home in record time.

“Thanks for scarring me for life, asshole.” Gerard bitched the next morning at school. He prodded the mystery meat with suspicion.

“Travis, I thought we decided that whipping it out in public is a bad idea.” Nate scolded him, before slurping loudly at his big gulp cup.  

“It wasn’t Travis who whipped it out.” Gerard grumbled.

“Ooookaaay,” Disashi joined in. He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen him launch a broccoli floret at Missy’s hair. He grinned widely as squealing erupted out at her table. “So who scarred you?”

“Saporta.” Gerard sulked.

“It was his tackle blowing in the air conditioning,” Travis explained.

Three snorts sounded at once.

“You saw Saporta’s dick?” Nate sounded almost jealous.

“Not just Saporta’s. His girlfriend’s too,” Gerard lamented.

“Saporta’s girlfriend has a dick?” Mikey almost put his sidekick down. Almost.

“No fuckface,” Travis spluttered. “Saporta was getting serviced on his living room couch.”

Three pairs of wide eye’s met his.

“Are you sure she didn’t have a dick?” Mikey asked.

Gerard groaned and dropped his head onto the table.

“Mr McCoy, see me after class.”

Travis felt an eye tick coming on.

“So, what did Saporta want?” Gerard handed the controllers to Travis.

“Bitched me out. Wanted me to pull my finger out of my ass and work to my potential,” Travis grumbled.

“I don’t get it. You aced English last year, why the sudden slump?” Mikey wanted to know.

“The work’s a lot harder this year, knucklehead.”

Gerard kept quiet.

Travis decided that night that spying on Saporta needed to take top priority. Fuck algebra. Letters did not belong in maths anyway.

Donning his spy outfit- Black jeans, black t-shirt, black hoodie and balaclava, Travis headed back towards Saporta’s house. He prayed there’d be no banging on the living room couch tonight as he crept along the house.

Towards the side, he found a small basement window at ground level. Lying flat on his stomach, crushing the petunias that were planted around it, Travis looked into the gloom.

Basements were good places to hide things. Bodies, weapons, Gerards, and terrariums.

Wait.

Terrariums?

Travis pulled out the pair of binoculars he found in Gerard’s room. When he asked Gerard why he had a pair of binoculars in the first place, his friend just waved his hand vaguely and mumbled something about a zombie apocalypse.

Back to the spying at hand.

Travis carefully lifted the binoculars to his eyes and focused into the faint gloom of the room. He saw movement in a corner and as he focused in, nearly dropped the binoculars.

It was a plastic tub full of white mice.

Was Saporta testing cosmetics in his basement?

Suddenly the basement lit up with the glow of fluorescent lights. Travis flinched and pulled out of the light. Saporta came into view in front of a really large terrarium, its contents shielded by wooden sides. The teacher tapped his index finger against the glass front and smiled, his lips moving as if he was talking to whatever was inside. He then walked to the shelf behind it to grab a mouse out of the dozen or so scurrying around inside their plastic prison.

He held the mouse by its tail above the terrarium and opened the lid. He released the tail and the mouse dropped to its doom.

**

 

 “Next thing you know, he’s sticking his arm into the fucking tank and this big ass black snake wraps itself around his arm.” Travis had a rapt audience at lunch the next day, even Mikey was ignoring his sidekick. “But the creepiest thing was that he started kissing it and petting it.”

“Was it the cobra I told you about?” Mikey said around a mouthful of peanut butter and banana sandwich.

“I don’t know. It was a snake. You know. Long, slithering. Forked tongue. Snake,” Travis spluttered.

“Indiana Jones hates snakes,” Gerard offered from behind his copy of Buffy. Travis always thought they overdid the whole pro feminist message, but the fights were badass.

“I don’t believe you,” Nate sounded bored. Travis turned to Disashi, expecting his diatribe on belittling people by not trusting them, but he was currently preoccupied with the preliminary plans of a trick he wanted to try. Broken bones were guaranteed.

“Dude, it’s so fucked up, it has to be true,” Travis defended.

“Yeah. You know Travis doesn’t have the imagination to think up something that Twilight Zone,” Mikey offered.

“Thank you Mikey. Hey!” Travis threw a piece of soggy macaroni at him.

“I want video proof,” Nate was being a hard ass.

“Stop being such a hard ass. Have I ever lied to you?” Travis put on his sincere face.

“Becky Gerwalski.” So Disashi was paying attention after all.

“Besides that,” Travis waved his hand dismissively.

“That time you said you were related to Micheal Jordan,” Mikey added.

“Fuck you guys,” Travis sulked into his macaroni and cheese.

“Why didn’t you tape it on your phone and threaten to youtube it if Saporta doesn’t let you pass?”

Sometimes Gerard came up with the best ideas. Travis smirked at the suggestion. It was perfect!

“Gee, I don’t think posting a video of your teacher playing with his snake is going to…” Mikey trailed off at the chorus of snickers coming from the table. “Shut up, assholes.”

“No, little Way is right. We need to get Saporta playing with his “snake” on film. It’ll be cinematic gold,” Travis spoke up.

“Why do I have a feeling I’m part of that “we”?” Gerard sighed.

“Cos you’d be right,” Travis pointed at him.

“Only if it doesn’t interfere with my Mystery Science Theatre marathon I had planned,” Gerard sulked.

“Deal,” Travis could feel his face nearly split in half with the size of his smile.

 

“Remind me to never go along with any idea you have ever again,” Gerard whined, trying to shake his leg awake again.

They had been crushing Saporta’s petunias for near on two hours and the teacher had yet to make an appearance in his basement. Even Travis was starting to get bored.

Gerard’s phone suddenly rang out into the quiet neighbourhood. He scrambled to answer it.

“Frank! Hi! You’ll never guess what we’re doing. Nope. That’s later…Dude, we’re staking out Saporta’s basement…”

“Is your ringtone seriously the Gummi Bears theme?” Travis asked. Gerard flipped him off.

“That’s what I said,” Gerard ignored Travis. “We’re here to film it… I don’t know…Hey Travis, does your phone even have a video function?”

Travis rolled his eyes in an obvious ‘DUH’.

“Frank says while we’re at it, to head on over to Hayley’s house. Apparently…seriously? Apparently she dances around naked while singing to…you’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?” Gerard laughed loudly, so Travis swatted at him to shut the fuck up. Gerard flipped him off. “Look dude, I gotta go. Call you later.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to be stealthy when you talk loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear you?” Travis was a little pissed at Gerard’s lack of stealth.

“I’m bored,” Gerard grouched. “Wanna go see if Frank was right about Hayley?”

“I’m not that brave. I don’t even think he’s home. Let’s go.” Travis stood up, dusted off his jeans and pulled Gerard along into the dark and home.

It was only later, when Travis was lying in bed that he knew something was up. He HAD to get Saporta on film. Crawling out of bed, he headed back to his teacher’s house.

He was back at the window, warm breath misting up the basement window as he waited.

 

And waited….

And…

“Mr McCoy.”

Travis leapt up with a squeak and came face to face with an amused looking Saporta.

“Are you looking for something in particular? Or just in the mood to fuck up my girlfriend’s flowerbed?”

Travis’ tongue didn’t fit in his mouth, choking any words that wanted to come out.

Saporta lifted an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Travis had no other choice. He ran like a bat out of hell all the way home.

“He caught you?” Gerard almost hit cat decibels.

“You totally fail at stakeouts,” Mikey sighed.

“It’s not like you came up with anything when you tried,” Travis pointed a finger at him. Fuck Mikey. Bet he didn’t even go in the first place.

“Did you at least get some footage?” Gerard griped.

“No.” Travis sighed. “And now he’s going to know about me… there… stalking and shit.”

“But he doesn’t know you don’t have anything on him. Bullshit your way through it,” Nate decided to join in the conversation.

“I knew we kept you around for a reason,” Travis smiled wide.

Saporta handed back their assignments that day. It was an in depth analysis of Edgar Allen Poe’s work. Travis had a note scrawled on his paper.

 _See me after class._

Travis felt his stomach drop to his toes where it stayed until the bell rang for the end of the day. He stayed in his seat, ignoring the questioning glances from his friends as they left. Soon it was just Saporta and him left.

“Mr McCoy, “ Saporta started. “I’m very disappointed in you.”

Travis gulped.

“Your scores from last year are outstanding. What’s going on? On drugs? Got a girl? What’s taking your focus away?”

By now, Saporta had seated himself on Travie’s desk and was looking down at him, large eyes sincere behind the thick frames of his specs.

“And why are you spying on me?”

There it was – the question he really didn’t want to answer.

Travis had a million excuses. A gazillion. One of his favourites was that his body had been taken over by aliens in order to take over the earth and bring about a new inter galactic order. Ok, so maybe Gerard and Mikey aren’t the best people to ask for excuse advice. But still, original.

“Mr…uh…” Travis swallowed hard. “It was…I uh…”

“Complete sentences, please.” Saporta was fucking smirking.

“You…I know about you… about the snake. I have it on film.”

 

Saporta just raised an eyebrow.

“Ok. But I have you doing drugs on school property. I’d say that trumps snakes any day,” Saporta smirked.

Travis gulped and decided to go in for the bullshit kill. “But I have you on film. I’ll find another school, but you won’t find another job if I release what I’ve got.”

“So, you’re trying to blackmail me. For what?”

“Pass me. That’s all,” Travis rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans.

Saporta eyed him carefully. “Is this how you plan to get through the rest of your life? Blackmailing people for passing grades?” he leaned forward, resting his hands on Travis’ desk, his face inches from the student’s. “Do the work and I’ll pass you.”

“That’s defeating the object of blackmail. You pass me. I don’t go public.”

“Tell you what, do some extra credit work and I’ll pass you.”

“I’m not a moron,” Travis scoffed. “I don’t do any work, you pass me and your snake…stays between us.” Travis could feel himself getting cockier by the second. He even smiled slightly.

“Mr McCoy, I have to show the school transcripts of all the work you do. I don’t throw your assignments out. The school keeps them on record. Don’t you think it’ll be suspicious if your file is empty and yet you passed?”

“Then make a plan, sir.” With that, Travis stood and left the class, Saporta’s eyes burning into the back of his skull the whole way to the door.

“So? How’d it go?”

The boys were yet again in the basement, smoking it up after a hard day at school. Mikey was suspiciously absent and Gerard was yet again getting tangled in the telephone cord while talking to Frank.

Nate seemed to be the only person interested in Travis’ drama anymore.

“I did what you said. Bullshitted my way through.” Travis shrugged.

“What if he calls your bluff? You need some evidence,” Disashi gave his two cents worth from the couch in the corner. He was banned from skating until his ankle was healed up.

“Details,” Travis dismissed. He was still riding his blackmail high.

“Ok, yeah, I gotta go…” Gerard hung up with a sigh. “Frank’s found a girlfriend.” He announced with all the enthusiasm of an obituary.

 

Travis patted him on the back softly while everyone else just ignored his misery. He had assholes for friends.

 

 

A few days later, in English class, Travis was once again staring at a large red F on his assignment. This was getting ridiculous. Saporta was obviously not stepping up to the blackmail plate and Travis had to make another plan. Soon.

 

That night, after dinner, Travis wandered downstairs to grab a post meal snack. Loaded up with a coke and a packet of Oreos, he passed his mom who was watching an old movie. The picture of a long, stocking clad leg filled the screen.

 

“Mom?” he asked around a mouth full of cookies. “What you watching?”

 

“The Graduate,” she replied distractedly.

 

“What’s it about?” he moved to sit next to her.

 

With an irritated humph, his mom pointed to the screen. “Mrs Robinson seduces one of her husband’s students.”

Travis swallowed nervously. Mrs Iero totally seduced him. “So, uh, how does it end?”

 

His mom put on an evil smirk. “They all die.”

 

Travis just stared for a moment before shrugging. “Works for me,” he settled down next to his mom and watched a very young Dustin Hoffman fail and protecting his virtue.

 

Later that night, as he crawled into bed, the idea hit him like a freight train. What if he seduced Saporta? Then he won’t have to work. Ok, so Saporta’s not Mrs Iero, but he’ll just have to deal with the bits when he got to it. First he had to get Saporta under his oh so very charming spell.

 

Which, in theory sounds brilliant. Except he had no idea how one guy seduces another. It had to be different from chicks and Saporta was a little straight, what with the girlfriend and all.

 

Travis tried to remember if any of his friends were actually gay. He mused on Gerard for a second, then recalled the posters of Buffy and Inara on the inside of his closet. There was that Hepburn poster, but he put it down to Gerard being... well, Gerard.

 

And that led to Travis sitting alone, in his bedroom on a Friday night, researching gay love.

 

On livejournal.

 

Yep, he was well and truly fucked.

 

 

 

Travis spent Saturday morning curled up in bed. He claimed that it was because he had a ton of homework, but he knew he was in fact hiding from his computer. Having spent the entire night learning all about gay love had left him somewhat traumatized.

 

What if Saporta outed him to the entire school?

 

What if Saporta wanted to top?

 

His ass instinctually clenched at the thought.

 

So bed was the safest place for him to stay. Now if only he could stop dreaming about dicks and lube.

 

**

 

On Monday, Travis was still reeling from his idea. Could he really pull it off? It was just for the rest of the year, then he’d be in college. He met up with Gerard at his locker.

 

“Hey, Gee, uh...” Travis started.

 

Gerard leant against the locker and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “Hey Travis, what’s up?”

 

“So, you and Frank. Did you guys ever... like... I dunno... try stuff?”

 

Gerard scrunched his nose. “There was that one time we tried to smoke oregano when we ran out of weed. I don’t recommend it.”

 

“No, dude, other...stuff...”

 

Gerard gave him a blank look.

 

“Look, I’m asking have you and Frank ever...” he pressed his hands together as if playing an invisible accordion.

 

Gerard’s eyes widened. He began to splutter. “Travis, what the fuck?”

 

“It’s just that you and Frank act really not heteronormative around each other.” Travis fell into the metaphorical pit he had just dug and realised he couldn’t get out.

 

His friend narrowed his eyes and spat a fuck you at Travis before storming off.

 

***

 

Mikeyway was waiting at his locker at the end of the day, nose buried in his history textbook. Travis sighed and nudged the skinny boy aside to get into his locker.

 

“Travis. Why is Gerard suddenly hanging out with jocks?” Mikey looked up from his textbook.

 

“I dunno.” Travis shrugged. “Didn’t think they’d let him hang out with them.”

 

“Bryar and Toro are cool. But why would he rather hang out with them? What did you two fight about?” Mikey’s eyes drilled into Travis’ head.

 

“Maybe, because, he’s just going through a phase?” Travis tried.

 

“Or could it be that his friend basically accused him of being gay and is a total asshole?” Mikey punched Travis suddenly in the stomach before stalking away, leaving a winded Travis leaning heavily against his locker.

 

“He can’t hide from the truth forever!” Travis called after Mikey, pushing his luck a little further.

 

 

Travis went home to work on his plan and mope. Although more moping was involved than actual planning.

 

He was saved from further moping by two dark shadows in his doorway.

 

Mikey stood there, hand holding tightly onto Gerard’s elbow, who in turn looked like someone had told him his favourite comic shop had burned to the ground.

 

“Uh…” Travis tried.

 

Mikey sighed. “Look. I’ve got to be somewhere. You two. Talk.” With that, he spun off and left Gerard standing in the doorway.

 

“Look,” Travis licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Gee. I’m…I was…”

 

“An asshole?” Gerard turned on his bitchface.

 

“Yeah. But, you can’t blame me for thinking…” Travis tried.

 

“No, I can totally blame you. I know I’m not exactly the coolest guy around with girls hanging off my arms, but that’s no reason to call me gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, I mean, yeah, sure, whatever. You know, people’s own choice and shit,” Gerard began to ramble. “I just think you need to get your facts straight dude.” 

 

Travis realized how wrong he really was. “Look, Gee. I’m sorry. I just. The way you were mooning over Frank leaving just made me think…and then there’s the Hepburn obsession. And what about – “

 

“Shuddup. I get it.” Gerard was actually blushing.

 

“Friends?” Travis held out his hand.

 

“Not yet. I’m still kinda pissed at you.” Gerard shuffled into the room and slumped in the office chair, dislodging some clothes.”So what’s with the sudden interest in my friendship with Frank? Not that we’ve done anything. He’s just, you know, Frank.”

 

Travis played with a stray thread on his jeans. He couldn’t meet Gerard’s eyes.

 

“Travie, what’s going on dude?”

 

“I can’t.. it’s complicated.” Travis shrugged.

 

“Wait..do you..are you...”

 

“Gay?” Travis finished for him.

 

Gerard plastered on a sincere look and nodded.

 

“No,” Travis answered. Well, not yet, anyway, he thought.

 

“Then what gives?”

 

Travis felt the words on the tip of his tongue. He should just say it. He wanted to seduce Saporta into giving him good grades. But that would lead to other questions he’d rather not answer. Screwing your friends mom is beyond forgivable. And his plan was technically illegal. The less people who knew, the better.

 

“I can;t tell you, Gee. I’m sorry. I just. Can’t.”

 

Gerard nodded. “OK. Got a smoke for me?”

 

 

 

Two days later, Travis looked up at a shadow looming over his rubbery lasagne.

 

Ray Toro and Bob Bryar were standing across from him, arms crossed. Travis squinted up at them. Before he could open his mouth to ask what they were doing, Gerard popped out from behind them.

 

“And this is Travis,” he said to the boys. “Grab a chair.”

 

Mikey leaned towards Travis. “Why is Toro and Bryar sitting with us?” he whispered.

 

Travis shrugged. Bob pinned him with his bright blue eyes and smirked. What the hell?

 

“Guys,” Gerard looked almost gleeful “Ray and Bob are going to be joining us for lunch from now on.”

 

Mikey raised his hand and cleared his throat. “Why?”

 

“Because,” Gerard started “they’re...uh... cool?”

 

Travis snorted. “Gee, only the uncool sit with us, remember? There’s a hierarchy.”

 

Toro’s eyebrows lifted. “Look, if it’ll make things easier, we’ll just go sit with the team. We didn’t mean to-“

 

“Fuck it. I’m here now, might as well sit,” interrupted Bryar, settling in across from Mikey.

 

Ray closed his mouth and followed suit. Mikey split his suspicious eyeballing between the new boys and his brother who seemed completely oblivious and very self satisfied.

 

 Travis sent a quick, tight smile to the newcomers and continued to concentrate on his lunch.

 

Ray and Bob quickly became lunchtime regulars.

 

**

 

It was Halloween and the boys, in a grand old tradition, decided to go trick or treating. They knew it was uncool, but then again, when had they ever subscribed to cool?

 

Gerard went as a vampire – again. Mikey and his yoghurt shop girl dressed up as Jack and Sally. Travis, well, he had been so busy with the tutoring that he forgot to get a costume, so he grabbed a broken broom stick, sharpened one end and stuck it in his back pocket.

 

“Frank should be here. It’s his birthday.” Grouched Gerard as they wandered around the neighbourhood, little demons, angels and zombies running past them.

 

“I’m going to slay you if you carry on with the grouching,” Travis warned, waving his stake around. Gerard just rolled his eyes. Mikey and Sally walked a few steps behind them, whispering to each other. As they rounded the corner, Travis froze.

 

“What?” asked Gerard.

 

“Saporta. That’s his house.” Travis pointed to the house without any Halloween decorations.

 

“So what? I’m not in the mood to hide in flowerbeds. Let’s go across the street. I need more candy.” Gerard took a swig of vodka from his hip flask and walked purposefully towards the house with huge jack o lanterns littering the yard across the road.

 

Travis hung back. He noticed that the house was dark, just the light of a TV screen flickering through the living room window. Without really thinking it through, Travis walked up the drive towards the front door. He hesitated before knocking on the door.

 

It was a few minutes before the door swung open.

 

“No fucking candy here,” Mr Saporta mumbled as he opened the door. He stopped when he saw Travis standing on his doorstep. “McCoy? What are you doing here?”

 

“Trick or treating,” Travis shrugged.

 

“I don’t have any candy,” Saporta said waving his hand uselessly. Travis suddenly noticed that his teacher had a thick stubbly beard and his eyes were bloodshot.

 

 “That’s cool, sir. I just wanted to say hi.” He said lamely and glanced across the road to see Gerard tripping off the porch stairs of the house across the road.

 

Saporta eyed him wearily. “Hi.” He said and moved to shut the door.

 

“Sir, are you… is everything ok?” Travis asked.

 

“Yeah, fine. Peachy. Fucking A-OK.” Saporta said, jaw clenched.

 

“Oh, uh, ok. Happy Halloween.” Travis turned to leave.

 

“Wait, Travis.” Saporta stopped him. “Look, I’ve been meaning to say…” Saporta looked around, licked his lips and shuffled his feet. “You’ve got to start working or you’re gonna fail the year.”

 

Travis frowned. “I guess.”

 

Saporta looked around again. “I know this isn’t… do you wanna… want a drink?”

 

Travis raised his eyebrows.

 

Saporta held up a hand. “I know it’s not the done thing, but, I could… I want to talk to you… about your work.”

 

Travis shrugged and walked into the house.

 

 

Inside, the house definitely looked different to what he had pictured it. Pizza boxes, Chinese takeout, beer tins and clothes littered every available surface. No way would Saporta’s girlfriend let the place look like this. Something was definitely off.

 

Saporta waved him into the living room where the big screen TV was showing SAW, while he disappeared into the kitchen. He came back out with two tins of beer and chucked one at Travis.

 

“Don’t deny that you drink, McCoy. Have a seat.”

 

Travis moved some pizza boxes off the couch and sat down. Saporta took a seat opposite him. He stared at Travis for a while as he drank his beer. Travis sipped delicately from his tin, trying to not look like a seasoned drinker. Suddenly Saporta leaned forward.

 

“So, I noticed you’ve given up on the blackmail.”

 

Travis shrugged.

 

“Thanks. Not that there was anything to blackmail me with, but the shitstorm it would have caused. Well, just, don’t try pulling that shit again with anyone. It’s not cool.” Saporta leaned back against the couch and drained his beer. “Another one?” he asked, standing up suddenly and heading towards the kitchen. He came back with two more beers.

 

“You’re giving alcohol to a minor and a student. Are you trying to get fired?” Travis asked.

 

Saporta blinked. “No. I’m trying to talk to another human being.” He snapped. “Sorry,” he rubbed his eyes. “It’s been a fucked up week.”

 

Travis just nodded before taking another sip of beer.

 

“If there is one piece of advice I can give you Travis, it is this, never, ever, fall in love. People are fickle assholes who’ll let you down and rip your heart out without a second thought.” Saporta held court with his beer in the air.

 

“So I guess you got dumped?”

 

“Dumped is such bad word for the destruction of a relationship, don’t you think? Why not say a person got destroyed, annihilated, lobotomized, or murdered? They summon up the correct imagery of what happened here.” Saporta chugged his beer.

 

Travis blinked in surprise. He hadn’t been dumped before and if this was the result, he decided to avoid it at all costs.

 

“Uh, Mr Sap-“

 

“Gabe,” interrupted his teacher.

 

“- Gabe, I'm sorry.” Travis managed.

 

“For what? You didn’t steal my girlfriend, did you?” Gabe cast a wary eye on the boy while chugging his beer. He crumpled the empty tin in his hand and threw it in the general direction of the growing pile of empty tins in the corner of the room. “This calls for something stronger.”

He stood up and went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of bourbon. He unscrewed it and took a long gulp before collapsing back in his seat.

 

“Travis,” Gabe slurred slightly. “Never get involved with a woman. Ever. You think everything’s going great, the sex is great, she’s smart and funny and everything you want and then BAM!” he punctuates this by slapping the table in front of him, dislodging a bag of pretzels to spill on the floor. “Then she starts asking about moving into a nice neighbourhood with a nice house and a picket fence and by then, you’re so pussy whipped you agree. You move into Stepford, get the picket fence. But is that enough?” Gabe takes another gulp of bourbon and passes the bottle to Travis.

“No, it’s not, because then she starts talking about rings and weddings and kids and retirement funds and starts making you give up the things you liked. Fucking... fucking wine tasting and shopping for antiques. Its all bullshit!”

 

Travis hands the bottle back to his teacher.

 

“I’m only fucking 23, you know? I’m too young to be thinking about couples therapy and engagement rings.”

 

“You’re 23?” Travis sees the words leaving his mouth and wishes he could pull them back. Instead he just reaches for the bourbon and takes a shot.

 

Gabe seems to have ignored the comment. “Now guys, guys are much easier. They don’t leave stupid ass candles on the toilet cistern, they don’t make you buy sensible cars. They’re there for the same reason as you – a good fuck, a few beers and Buenos nachos, you never see them again. They’re also way better at giving head.”

 

Travis choked on the shot of bourbon.

 

“Yep,” Gabe continued. “Much easier to date guys.” He suddenly turned to look at Travis. “Do you date guys?”

 

Travis stared at him wide eyed and shook his head.

 

“You’re totally missing out,” Gabe pointed a finger at him. “Don’t write it off completely. You look like you’d be good at sucking cock.’

 

“I...I..m..not gay,” Travis spluttered, or tried. The bourbon was making his tongue heavy.

 

Gabe shrugged. “Don’t need to be gay to fuck a guy. But what am I saying, you’re too straight for that.”

 

“I’m also still in high school,’ Travis pointed out.

 

“Fucking high school. I hated high school. College, college should have lasted longer.” Gabe had a faraway look in his eyes. “Fucking...anything goes, you know? People are more openminded, less bullshit. Everyone’s in a fucking band or an artist or a writer... fucking wonderland.”

 

Gabe seemed to have dozed off, bourbon in hand. Travis carefully took it from him and drank until he choked. This was a whole new level of fucked up, he thought. The movie had long since stopped and the annoying menu screen was on loop. Travis turned the TV off and tried to walk straight. As he passed Gabe, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

 

“You need to do your work,” Gabe slurred. “I don’t want to fail you.” With that, he passed out again.

 

Travis locked the door behind him and ambled home. He threw up twice on the way and barely made it to his room before he passed out.

 

**

 

The next afternoon, Travis wearily squinted open his eyes. And promptly closed them again. His hangover kicked him in the gut so hard it made his head spin. Groping around the bed, he found his cellphone under his pillow.

 

He had a dozen messages and three missed calls.

 

He replied to Gerard in very bad text speak that he was ok, hadn’t died yet and no, they could not use his body to experiment zombie survival on. He then slept the rest of the day.

 

**

 

That Monday in English class, Mr Saporta was acting really odd. He was lecturing them about books versus cinema adaptations and after a loud warning of detention to the first person to use Twilight as an example, he turned to the white board and began listing books.

 

“Right, name the movie that was adapted from the books,” he said, turning to the class. A couple of hands rose, but the rest of the class had tuned out. “Gerard,” Saporta pointed to him.

 

Gerard suddenly looked very put upon and hunched his shoulders higher. While he tried to find an answer, Saporta’s eyes wandered over to Travis. He licked his lips. Travis blinked. Saporta’s eyes seemed to be undressing him in front of everyone and in the deepest, darkest corner of Travis’ mind, he was enjoying it.

 

A few seconds into Gerard’s tirade about the travesty that was nearly every comic book adaptation, Saporta blinked and seemed to come back to himself. He shut Gerard up with a curt ‘comic books aren’t part of this syllabus’ before looking over the rest of the class.

 

Travis felt his chest hurt and realised he’d stopped breathing. He forced air into his lungs and replayed the moment in his mind. What the fuck was up with Saporta? And why was he suddenly happy for the attention? Travis watched as Saporta stood in front of the class and stretched up to write something at the top of the board. He made a long, elegant picture and Travis caught himself wondering what Saporta would be like naked and panting.

The thought stopped him short.

 

Ew, dude, that’s his English teacher! Who was twenty three. Also, he wasn’t gay. He didn’t like guys. Right? Right.

So why was his mind suddenly on the gay porn channel starring him and his teacher? His plan was obviously starting to bite him in the ass before it even got off the floor.

 

“Fucking bourbon,” he muttered to himself shaking his head.

 

“Oh, so you disagree, Mr McCoy?” Saporta turned to him.

 

“Disagree?” Travis frowned. Fuck, he’d stopped listening again.

 

“That any book can be adapted into a film?” Saporta prompted him.

 

Travis thought fast. “Well, yeah. Some books just aren’t for the movies. Look at all those boring arthouse movies about people doing stupid things from weird angles. Save your money and burn the book for heat. You know?”

 

Saporta looked like he was biting his cheek trying not to laugh. “So, it’s not about creative constraints? Human limits? Lack of technology to truly bring the writer’s vision to life?”

 

“Battlefield earth,” Travis pointed out.

 

“Touche,” Saporta said, “and what about the classics? Orpheus in the underworld?”

 

“Who?” Travis asked in a small voice. It seemed as if the rest of the class had melted away and it was just him and Saporta discussing...well, he still wasn’t sure.

 

The sound of the bell cut through his head like an axe, breaking the staring competition he found he was having with Saporta.

 

“See me after school,” Saporta said softly and went back to his desk.

 

**

Travis was late for lunch. He had bunked out of chemistry to go smoke a joint behind the 7/11 on the corner. He felt completely justified in doing so. Mental health issues and such.

 

When he sank into his seat, tray piled with food for the pending munchies. He was concentrating on eating his mushy tacos without giving away the fact that he was stoned. He looked up to see Bob staring at him speculatively.

 

“What?” he asked, touching his mouth to make sure he hadn’t spread sauce all over it.

 

Bob shrugged but didn’t stop staring.

 

“Dude, what?” Travis felt his paranoia pushing down the urge to eat.

 

“If you’re going to fuck a teacher, you need to learn subtlety,” Bob said softly.

 

Travis choked on his food. Bob leaned across the table and gave him a few whacks on the back. Once Travis had caught his breath, he looked up at Bob.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said primly.

 

Bob leaned back and smirked. “Yeah, luckily for you, not everyone pays attention. Tune it down or they’ll know.”

 

“Know what? There’s nothing going on between me and Saporta.”

 

Bob stood, grabbing his empty tray and leaned towards Travis. “Who mentioned Saporta?” with a wink, he left, a dumbstruck Travis stared after him.

 

**

 

The day ended far too quickly for Travis. The final bell rang and he found himself dragging his feet to Saporta’s class.

 

The teacher was sitting at his desk marking poetry essays with a frown and a red pen. Travis reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside. Saporta looked up, a number of expressions flitting across his face until he seemed to settled on determined.

 

“Please take a seat Mr McCoy,” he said, pointing to a nearby desk. Travis sunk into the seat, cringing at the noise it made when it scrapes across the linoleum.  

 

Saporta remained behind his desk, elbows resting on the essays, fingers pressed together. The silence stretched between them, like molasses, thick, heavy and sickeningly sweet. Travis swallowed nervously.

 

“What are we going to do?” Saporta asked softly.

 

“Sir?” Travis asked, uncertain.

 

“With you? You refuse to work, you’re trying to blackmail teachers... Travis, what am I gonna do with you?”

 

“Look, Mr Saporta.. if this is about Halloween, I swear, it was worse for me than you.”

 

Saporta arched an eyebrow. “So you’re not gonna add that to your blackmail arsenal?”

 

“If I say yes, will you pass me?” Travis licked his lips, trying to hide how nervous he really was. And it wasn’t just because Saporta was starting at him in a way that made his thighs start to tremble.

 

Saporta barked out a laugh. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” at Travis’ frown, Saporta’s added “Google it.”

 

He stepped out from behind the desk and stood directly in front of Travis. “Look, I could be like a huge asshole and fail you just for being a little shit, but I’m gonna throw you a bone. I’ll help you with your assignments, after school, everyday. That way, you don’t need to blackmail me, I don’t need to fail you. Its a win –win. Right?”

 

Now, the prospect of spending every afternoon alone with Saporta sent a feeling of ominous doom mixed with tiny sparks of excitement to the pit of his stomach. He nodded curtly and scrambled out of the class as fast as he could. This was turning into a bigger mess than he'd expected.

 

**

 

Gerard found Travis hanging out in an old treehouse in his backyard. He climbed haphazardly into the rotting wooden structure and crawled to sit next to Travis who seemed to be on a roll, if the mound of smoked roaches next to him were any indication. He leaned against the rickety wall across from his friend and snagged the lit joint he held, eyes glazed and far away.

 

Kicking Travis’ ankle to get his attention, he sucked on the joint.

 

“Travis, dude, are you okay?” Gerard asked. He kept the joint, Travis looked like he’d had enough.

 

“No. The whole world hates me,” Travis grumbled, rubbing his neck absently.

 

“You know, “ Gerard said, putting on his sincere voice, “you can tell me what’s going on.”

 

“I can’t,” Travis said. “You’ll hate me if I told you and then I’ll end up being 80 and still going to school, all because Mrs Iero fucking moved to Seattle. Seattle! Dude. Not the coolest place. Couldn’t she just wait until after graduation? I was nearly there, man. Nearly out of school. But no, sa..sap..Gabe snake asshole has to come and make with the fucking guys thing and now I’m all confused and I’ve gotta start doing the homework.” Travis petered off after that, immensely interested in an ant that was crawling near his fingers.

 

Gerard looked at the joint in his hand, then promptly chucked it out the window. What was in the stuff? He nudged Travis’ ankle again.

 

“Wait, Travis, what do you mean?”

 

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just gonna stay here and not go back. Easy, right? Yeah, yeah. Hey, you hungry? I’m starving. I want nachos. And lasagne. And twizzlers. Lots of twizzlers.” Travis began to ramble.

 

“Travis, look at me. What do you mean about Mrs Iero?”

 

“She fucking rocked, dude. She had these long legs that’ll wrap around me and she made these noises. Fucking...fuck machine,”

 

“You fucked Frank’s mom!” Gerard shouted.

 

“Sssshhhhhh, asshole. Its secret. Lots of secrets. Me and Frank’s mom, Gabe fucking guys... do you know how much gay stuff is online?” Travis crawled over to Gerard and fisted the front of his shirt. “Gee, I’m not gay. Ok? I’m not. I don’t want to be, but fucking Saporta talking about how better it is to fuck dudes and now...he’s...”

 

Travis leaned over Gerard’s shoulder and threw up over the wall into the garden below before passing out in his friend’s lap.

 

**

 

When Travis came to, three worried faces swam above his face. His stomach hurt, his throat burned and his head felt stuffed with cotton wool.

 

“Whu?” he croaked.

 

“He’s alive,” Gerard’s voice was heavy with relief. The faces disappeared.

 

“So, what is this about?” came a voice from one corner.

 

“I... he was just going on about being gay and fucking Fr..some woman and then he threw up and passed out.”

 

“So, calling me and Ray was your best idea? Really Gerard?”

 

“Come on Bob, you guys are the experts in this kind of thing...”

 

“What? The fucking our friends mom thing? Or the gay thing?”

 

“No one said anything about Mrs Iero!”

 

“Gerard, you just did... Stop gaping like a fish.”

 

“Uh, Bob, mind filling me in?” Ray’s voice spoke up.

 

“Ah, fuck, Travis! You really fucked up dude. Ok, guys, i can’t confirm this, but here’s how i see it. Travis broke the cardinal rule of brodom and was fucking Mrs Iero to pass English.” Bob said.

 

“Twas true love, asshole,” Travis found his voice and feebly interrupted.

 

“Mrs Iero moved away, Travis was failing English and i think he’s trying to either sleep with Mr Saporta or he’s found out that the dude runs a gay porn site. That part is still a bit unclear.” Bob finished. Travis heard the clink of beer tins.

 

He dragged himself up until his back found a wall. Cracking open his eyes again, two worried faces and one amused smirk greeted him.

 

“I can’t believe you were sleeping with Frank’s mom!” Gerard burst out. “That’s so wrong man.’

 

“And now? With Saporta?” Ray asked.

 

“I just... we had a chat.. on Halloween... can I get a beer please?” Bob tossed one over and Travis fumbled to open it. “He was going on about how it’s better to fuck guys because chicks are hard work and shit. Next thing I know, he suddenly looks all hot and shit.” Travis downs half the beer in one gulp. “I’m not gay.” He adds.

 

Bob nods. “I know. But experimenting with your English teacher is just a really bad idea.”

 

“We haven’t done anything! Look, he’s offered to help me pass this year by helping me with my assignments.”

 

“Fuck, I knew something was up. No one got  A’s from Mrs Iero.” Gerard said, wide eyed.

 

“Uh, Gee, move on,” Ray said, hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dude, you gotta promise me you won’t tell Frank.” Travis was suddenly terrified that Frank would find out and kill him in his sleep. Creatively.

 

Gerard looked torn and just sipped at his beer.

 

“Travis,” Bob caught his attention. “Under no circumstances are you going to sleep with Mr Saporta. Just do your fucking work, it’s not that hard. We’ve got six months left of school. Just get through it.”

 

“And as for the gay thing?” Ray added. “Don’t sweat it. You could always claim to be bi.”

 

Bob and Ray climbed out of the treehouse and headed off. Gerard stayed with Travis, sitting as far from him as possible.

 

“Look, just... go home, ok?” Travis needed to wallow, alone.

 

Gerard crumpled the empty beer tin and threw it in a corner. “Travie, I...” he closed his mouth and left.

 

Travis sat there until it was too cold to be outside and even then, he reluctantly went up to his room, the weight of his friends finding out his dirty little secret heavy on his shoulders.

 

**

The next afternoon, Travis dragged his feet into Saporta’s class after school. He had given the class a reading assignment. They had to find a book that had not been adapted into a movie and write an argument as to why it should be made into one.

 

When he sank into his seat and pulled out his notebook, Saporta looked up from the book he was reading.

 

“Have you decided on a book yet?” he asked looking over the rim of his buddy holly style glasses.

 

Travis shook his head. “I thought I’d just like, google a book or something.”

 

Saporta grimaced. “Yeah, good idea. Were you going to google the report as well? Look,” he threw the book he was reading at Travis who caught it against his chest. “Try that on for size.”

 

Travis looked at the cover. “Cry to Heaven.” He read. “What? Is this some kind of self help book like The Secret?”

 

Saporta shakes his head. “It’s a story about music. You like music, don’t you?”

 

“You don’t have anything, uh, shorter?” Travis asks, eyeing the two inch thick brick of a book.

 

“No.” Saporta shrugged. “You should start reading now,” he suggested and pulled out a copy of The Cleaners.

 

“Now, why can’t i just write about that?” Travis pointed to the comic.

 

‘Mark Wheaton is not for minors,” Saporta said from behind the comic.

 

“You know, I pegged you for more of a Mark Twain than Mark Wheaton guy,” Travis said, trying to stall the inevitable brick of reading he had to get through.

 

Saporta lowered the comic. “I’m not sure how I feel about you pondering my reading habits McCoy. I think it’s up there with finding you in my garden.”

 

“There was no pondering,” Travis squirmed. “Just a passing idea.”

 

Saporta just raised an eyebrow and went back to reading. Travis eyed the tome he had to read.

 

“Hey, Saporta,” Travis began. Saporta lowered the comic with a sigh.

 

“What McCoy?”

 

“so, like, do you like shit like CSI and stuff?” Travis finished lamely.

 

“CSI is overrated and inaccurate. I prefer good characters over blood splatter, like Six Feet Under.” He picked up the comic again. “Besides, who doesn’t like a show with awkward subtext?”

 

Before Travis could stop himself, he blurted out “Are you talking about the gay guy? Or the foot fetish sister?”

 

“You watched it?” Saporta seemed surprised.

 

Travis shrugged. “Yeah, well, Gerard watches pretty much anything.”

 

Saporta just nodded and went back his comic book. Travis recognised a lost battle and opened the book with a sigh and began to read.

 

**

Despite his best efforts, Travis became engrossed in the story. He was halfway through the book when Thanksgiving rolled around.

 

Travis was sitting on the couch, reading when his mom bustled into the living room.

 

“Travie, baby, I’m very happy about this new reading thing you have going, but i need you to set the table.” She wiped her hands on her apron and headed back into the kitchen. Travis just grunted a reply. “Make sure to use the good glasses and the cutlery your grandma gave me,” she called. “Oh and set three places.”

 

Travis dropped the book. “What?”

 

“You heard me! Good glasses, grandma’s cutlery.” She called from the kitchen.

 

“Who’s coming to dinner?” he called back, heading to the cabinet that held the good glasses.

 

“A friend,” his mom called back. There was a clanging of pots and he heard his mother swear loudly.

 

Travis detoured to the kitchen door and leaned against the frame, crossing his arms. “What friend?” he asked.

 

“Just an old friend from school.”

 

“A male friend?” he probed.

 

His mother tsked, stirring the gravy. “Dammit, its going lumpy. I’ll have to sieve it.” She dumped the gravy into a sieve and began mashing the lumpy brown sludge.

 

“Mom,” Travis prompted her. “A male friend?”

 

His mom stopped, turned to him with one hand on her hip and glared at him. “One man in my life is enough, thank you very much.” She pointed at him with a wooden spoon. A gloopy, brown lump fell to the floor.

 

“Must be someone special. Usually we just do turkey burgers.” Travis stepped into the kitchen and toyed with the turkey baster.

 

“Don’t I wish I was doing burgers now,” his mom sighed. “Look, just be a fine, young man, help out your mom and set the table. I’ll even throw in a beer or two to sweeten the deal.”

 

She smirked at his shocked face.

 

“Bribery and corruption wins every time,” he said and went back into the dining room to set the table.

 

An hour later the doorbell rang. Inspired by the promised beer, Travis jumped up from the couch and answered the door.

 

A woman around his mom’s age stood on the door step. She wore a nice looking dark blue pants suit. Travis blinked. She removed the Jackie O sunglasses she was wearing and revealed large hazel eyes.

 

“Mrs Iero?” Travis gaped.

 

“Hello Travis,” she smiled.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

 

“Your mom invited me for Thanksgiving.” She said. “Can I come in?”

 

Travis stepped aside. “Where’s Frank?”

 

“The Ways,” she shrugged while eyeing Travis like a snake eyeing a large, juicy rat.

 

“Linda!” Travis’ mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “So nice of you to join us. Travis, please get Linda a glass of wine and close your mouth.”

 

Travis had to force his feet to move to the kitchen. His hands shook as he poured the wine, splashing ruby drops onto the counter. What was Linda Iero doing here on Thanksgiving? What if she told his mom about last year? He had to get out of dodge. He refilled his mom’s glass and carried both to the women who had settled on the couch.

 

“Thanks baby,” his mom said, taking her glass.

 

“Yes, thanks, baby,” Linda gave him a wicked grin. Travis felt his balls pull so far into his body, they were sitting in his throat.

 

“Hey, mom, can I borrow the car? I just wanna go see Frank, just for a bit.” Travis smiled as sincerely as he could.

 

His mom nodded and waved him away as she launched into her catch up with Linda.

 

Travis felt officially karmically bitch slapped by a six armed goddess...

 

**

Travis pulled up to the Ways' house a few minutes later and headed straight for the basement door. He didn’t bother knocking, just walked right in. As expected, the boys were getting stoned. Frank was squashed up against Gerard on the couch, clutching a bottle of vodka as if it were a lifeline. Mikey sat on the floor, six pack of beers next to him. Three were missing.

 

“Hey guys!” Travis said, waving lamely. Frank gave a squawk and launched himself off the couch and onto Travis, bottle still in hand.

 

“Travie! Dude! Ohmigod! I’m so fucking happy to see you!” Frank babbled.

 

Gerard and Travis exchanged awkward glances over Frank’s shoulder. Gerard shrugged and sipped at his beer.

 

“Frank, you can get off now.” Travis pushed his friend away. “So, you and.. uh...you’re here! What gives?”

 

“I was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with my dad, but he had to fly to London to record with some old dude, so mom got us tickets and bang! We’re back, baby!”

 

Travis cringed at the baby. He forced on a wide smile. “Awesome dude. I’ve missed you!”

 

“Not as much as you’ve missed his mom,” Gerard muttered from the couch. Travis widened his eyes and glanced at Frank, who didn’t appear to have heard. He was too busy cuddling next to Mikey, stealing a beer and ruffling his hair.

 

“So, what y’all watching?” Travis sank into the beanbag next to the couch, away from Gerard.

 

Frank looked up at Travis, then at the TV and shook his head. “I can’t fucking remember, dude.” He broke down into a giggling fit. Mikey smiled and tickled Frank until he was in tears and shouting uncle. Gerard glared at the TV and emptied his beer can.

 

“We’re watching Last of the Mohicans,” he grumbled.

 

“Keeping it themed then?” Travis tried for a smile, but Gerard just continued to glare.

 

Frank and Mikey stopped their tickling match and Frank pushed himself back onto the couch and cuddled into Gerard.

 

“Gee, dude, let’s watch something not depressing. Please dude? I don’t want to associate Thanksgiving with Daniel Day Lewis, no matter how hot he is.”

 

Gerard glanced over at Travis, who just squirmed uncomfortably. This was not how he wanted to spend the day, especially when seeing Frank for the first time in months.

 

“Hey Frank, how’s Seattle?” he looked away from Gerard, concentrating on Franks heavily lidded, bloodshot eyes.

 

“Seattle is pretty cool dude. Not as cool as Jersey, but it’s got some pretty cool bars I can get into. This girl I know,”

 

“His girlfriend,” Mikey interrupted.

 

“Whatever. She knows the guys that own the bar, so she gets me in. They got some cool bands there.” Frank reached down and tapped Mikey on the shoulder. “Beer, now, please”

 

Mikey sighed and handed on up to him. “School still sucks. The uniforms make me look like I work in IT or something just as dorky.”

 

“Or you’re just a giant dork,” Travis couldn’t help himself.

 

“Fuck you. You’re a dork. What’s this about you banging the new English teacher?”

 

Travis choked on his beer. Oh fuck.

 

Frank collapsed into giggles. “Man, you should see your face! I’m kidding. I mean, who’d want to bang a teacher. They’re, like, old and all teachery.”

 

Gerard looked like he had swallowed his tongue. His eyes were huge and he looked a little green around the edges.

 

Travis forced out a laugh. “Heh, yeah. That’s just...wrong.” he prayed for the stained floor to open up and swallow him where he sat.

 

“So, what’s with this new guy anyway?” Frank finally sobered a little.

 

“He’s just being an asshole.” Travis shrugged.

 

Mikey rolled his eyes. “Travis offered the dude a joint the first day of school.”

 

Franks mouth dropped open. “Dude, were you high?”

 

“A little. But come on! Ask Mikey. He looks like a maths club nerd” Travis pointed out.

 

“You’re a moron dude,” Frank sniggered, “just get to college, ok?”

 

Frank’s comment reminded Travis of the conversation he had with Gabe that fateful Halloween. “Yeah, college.”

 

“Yeah,” Mikey spoke up. “You guys all go to college. I’ll be stuck in sucksville alone.”

 

“Aw, Mikeyway. We’ll break you out. Fake your certificate and get you in with us. Ok?”

 

Travis felt the basement closing in on him. Gerard kept glaring at him, Frank was ignoring him to inspect the Way’s DVD collection and Mikey was getting progressively drunker.

 

“I’m gonna go,” he said. “Mom’s expecting me back already.” He headed to the door.

 

“See you in the summer!” Frank waved, not looking up from the rack.

 

Travis nodded and left. Once in the car, he found himself automatically taking the route to Gabe’s house.

 

Without really thinking it through, he parked in the street and climbed out the car. Before he knew it, he was knocking on his teacher’s front door.

 

A dishevelled Gabe answered the door.

 

“McCoy, what are you doing here?” he leaned against the doorframe.

 

“I...uh... was reading that book? And I had some questions.” Travis mentally patted himself on the back for the quick thinking.

 

“This can’t wait until after the game?” Gabe indicated with his head towards the noise coming from the TV.

 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’ll just...” he turned to leave. Gabe let out a sigh.

 

“Oh for.. just come in.”

 

Travis followed him inside. The coffee table was groaning under the mess of take out boxes that Travis was sure hadn’t been cleared since Halloween. God, his teacher was such a fucking slob.

 

“Drink?” Gabe asked as Travis perched on the couch. He could only nod.

 

Gabe disappeared and came back with a six pack. He tossed a beer at Travis before settling into his easy chair.

 

“So, how far are you?” Gabe asked, cracking open his beer.

 

“With?” Travis was struck dumb, fiddling with the tab.

 

“The book? How far are you?” Gabe asked, turning down the volume on the TV.

 

“Uh, you never told me how fucked the characters are,” Travis started, before taking a swig of his beer.

 

Gabe smirked. “What’s so fucked about them?”

 

“The castration for one. Wasn’t medical science pretty clued up by then? It’s totally messed up that they think cutting your balls off will keep your voice high.”

 

Gabe nodded, indicating for Travis to continue.

 

“And that Tonio dude. He’s such an asshole. Why seduce his teacher when he’s already fucking everyone else?”

 

“But Tonio loves his teacher.” Gabe pointed out.

 

“Yeah well, it's still messed up. And why is his teacher not nipping that shit in the bud, you know? He’s like a sucker for punishment. Letting his student, who’s a nutcase hell bent on revenge, seduce him.”

 

Travis took another swig of his beer.

 

“Maybe his teacher is trying to seduce him too,” Gabe said softly. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

 

“What’s there to fall in love with? They're both idiots. They only bond because they’re both dickless. It’s just weird.”

 

Gabe sighed. “Keep reading. It gets better.”

 

Travis could only nod. “So, what’s the score?”

 

**

 

The car rolled into the driveway four hours later. Travis cut the engine and prayed that his mom wouldn’t kill him on their porch.

 

He slunk up the stairs and opened the door. Giggling echoed from the living room.

 

“Hello?” he called following the noise.

 

His mom and Linda were sitting on the couch, glass in hand. He noted a few empty bottles of wine on the coffee table.

 

“Hey baby, ready to eat?” his mom asked.

 

“I’m ok, thanks. Have you guys already had supper?” he asked.

 

His mom frowned. “No, we’re gonna eat at 5,” she replied.

 

“Mom, it’s 9pm.”

 

His mom gasped softly. “Already? Shit!” she turned to Linda. “I’m so sorry. Must have lost track of time. You wanna eat now?”

 

Linda shook her head. “Its fine. We can have the turkey tomorrow.”

 

“And miss the sales?” his mom asked.

 

“I’d rather hide from black Friday, thanks.” Linda laughed. “I’ve made up the spare room for you. Will Frank be staying too?”

 

Linda shook her head.

 

Travis dragged himself upstairs to bed. Today could not end soon enough.

 

**

It was gone 2am when Travis woke up to his stomach growling. Crawling out of bed, he threw on a ratty old bathrobe and padded down to the kitchen. He paused at the doorway when he noticed the kitchen light was on. Linda was sitting at the counter, steaming mug in hand and a large sandwich next to her. He cleared his throat and shuffled into the kitchen.

 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.

 

Travis shrugged and began putting together a turkey and stuffing sandwich.

Linda shuffled in her seat and sat up a bit straighter.

 

“Look, Travis, I should apologise. I didn’t know you were Tanya’s son.”

 

Travis concentrated on spreading the cranberry sauce on his bread. Linda sighed softly.

 

“I had to move. I know you’re mad at me, but do you know how close we were to being caught?”

 

He carefully put the sauce away and started stacking the thin slices of turkey.

 

“Travis, look at me. I didn’t expect things to go as far as they did. It was stupid and irresponsible. I should not have encouraged you.”

 

He slammed his sandwich together and glared at Linda. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

 

With that, he left the kitchen and raced back to his room, balancing the sandwich in his hands. By the time he wanted to take a bite, his appetite had disappeared. He left it on his desk, cranberry sauce leaking onto an overdue history assignment about Genghis Khan.

 

**

 

Back at school, life was more awkward than ever. Gerard was actively avoiding him, Mikey kept giving him the evil eye and even Ray looked uncomfortable speaking to him. He had decided to eat lunch by himself, outside, despite the cold, brown bagging it with Thanksgiving left overs.

 

It was creeping closer to Christmas and everyone was starting to get excited over gifts and skiing trips and the general lack of school for the next few weeks. Travis, however, seemed to have missed the memo on holiday cheer and was moping in the library, trying to hide his lunch from the monitors as it was too cold to eat outside. He jumped when a body settled down next to him.

 

“Bob? How did you-“ Travis started

 

“Hiding from your friends is not going to solve this colossal fuck up,” Bob started. Travis gulped and choked on his bite of pastrami on rye. Bob patted him on the back until Travis was able to breathe. “Gerard is going to take a while to forgive you. Mikey too, just in show of solidarity.”

 

“What about you?” Travis ventured.

 

“Me? Well, the way I see it, you’re not fucking her anymore, so its ancient history.” Bob gave him a look. “And I hope you haven’t gone ahead with your other plan, cos that might be a little harder to forgive.”

 

Travis managed a smile. “Why, you call dibs when I wasn’t looking?”

 

Bob frowned. “No, cos that would mean you didn’t take my advice. And I give fucking good advice.”

 

“Noted.” Travis gave a mock salute.

 

“Ok, so when you’re done being a mopey, emo kid, we’re waiting for you in the cafeteria.” Bob said before standing up and leaving.

 

**

Travis was steaming as he banged on Gabe’s front door. He could hear the faint noise of gunfire coming from the TV and banged harder.

 

“Mr Saporta!” he yelled.

 

Finally the door opened and Gabe leaned against the doorframe. He gave Travis a hard look.

 

“What is so fucking important that you think interrupting my TJ Hooker marathon is worth it?” he snapped.

 

“What the hell kind of literature is this?” Travis threw the book at Gabe, forcing him to catch it against his chest. “What kind of person writes characters that are beyond fucked up, and I’m not talking about the fucked up way they speak either!”

 

“I think you’d better come inside,” Gabe said and stood aside to let Travis storm in. He closed the door and followed his student into the living room, where he was standing with his bunched fists on his hips.

 

“Tonio fucks everything that moves, seduces his teacher and then dumps the guy to marry some girl? What the hell? He’s an asshole. Why did you make me read this?”

 

Gabe set the book down on the coffee table and sank into the couch, looking up at Travis. “ First off, he doesn't marry her, he falls in love with  her and is all broken up about it, because he is still in love with his teacher and his teacher is cheating on him and Tonio can't see how this can be love if you can't commit to one person. Besides castrates weren't allowed to marry anyone. Did you even read the book? I thought you could handle it. Obviously I was wrong.”

 

Travis bristled at the words. “I can totally handle it, man. I’m just not digging the way this woman is portraying these pansies. If it were me...” Travis trailed off.

 

“If it were you?” Gabe prompted.

 

“I’d...I'd not fuck with the guys emotions, you know? Just be straight up about the whole thing.”

 

“So, you’re saying Tonio should have just told his mentor that he was gonna use him for sex and success and then leave him for a girl? Do you think Tonio thought he’d ever find a girl?” Gabe asked.

 

“Fuck, I...don’t know.” Travis seemed to crumple in on himself. Gabe pointed to the couch across from him.

 

“Travis, are you okay?” Gabe asked.

 

Travis shook his head. “I... you just keep messing with my head man.” He said.

 

Gabe sucked in a breath and released it with a chuckle. “Is that so?”

 

“You got all this shit hanging over my head and I just keep waiting for you to get me arrested or expelled.” Travis shook his head.

 

Gabe left the living room and returned a few minutes later with a six pack. He handed one to Travis.

 

“You forget all the shit you have on me?” Gabe smiled and cracked open his beer. Travis took that as his cue and opened his too. He chugged half of it in one go. “Look, Travis, I want you to graduate. I kind of need you to graduate.”

 

“Yeah, to keep up the stats for the state department,” Travis sulked.

 

Gabe grimaced. “Yeah, something like that.” He stared at the tin in his hand, as if it held all the answers. Travis shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

 

“Uh, Gabe, are you ok?” he found himself asking.

 

Gabe suddenly looked up, as if surprised that Travis was still there. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, shit happening and I’m trying to work it out.”

 

“Trying to figure out the fastest way to get me expelled?” Travis tried to joke, but it died in his throat.

 

“McCoy, the last thing I want is you getting expelled.” He set the beer can on the coffee table and stood to let Travis out. They were inches apart.

 

Gabe felt his breath catch. Too close, way too close. Travis didn’t move. He licked his lips and Gabe forced himself to breathe.

 

Gabe knew that there was a line and he acknowledged that crossing it would be a very bad idea.

 

“Travis,” Gabe said softly. “We-

 

Travis licked his lips again and closed the gap between them. It was a chaste kiss that lasted a few seconds. Travis pulled away quickly, his eyes widening as he realised what he’d just done.

 

“Fuck,” he spat and raced out the door.

 

He walked and walked, not caring where his feet took him. The scene replayed itself in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d just kissed Saporta. His teacher. So this obviously meant he was now gay. Or at least bi. Which, yeah, ok, Travis can accept that. Totally. he’s cool with that. Gabe didn’t kiss him back, though. Which made sense because, well, first of all. Hello, this was his teacher. Not that it had been a matter with Linda, but she was a...well...she. And Gabe is a he. So Travis was okay with kissing teachers. As long as they were female. Right? Right.

 

But Gabe wasn’t just a teacher. He was a cool dude. He was funny. And smart. And he wore the stupidest clothes that made him look like an art nerd. Art nerds weren’t cool. Except that Travis’ best friend was an art nerd and he thought Gerard was cool. In his own Gerard way. So what if Travis had kind of, sort of, daydreamed about what it would be like to kiss Saporta? It was purely for research. So he could seduce him and get A’s again.

 

Oh fuck.

 

Travis HAD seduced him!   But when had that happened? How had that happened? Had Gabe seduced him in return when he wasn’t paying attention?

 

He ended up at the mall, and decided to hit the record store. Maybe he’ll see if they have something loud and aggressive to help him sort his head out.

 

He was in a listening booth, bopping along to Breaking Benjamin when the door flew open.

 

“Hey, man, can’t you see – “ he blinked. “Ray?”

 

Ray smiled. “Hey Travie,”

 

“What are you doing here?” Travis asked.

 

“Oh, I work here. Saw you come in. I did knock, but you obviously didn’t hear me. What are you listening to?” Ray asked.

 

“Breaking Benjamin,” Travis said, holding up the CD cover.

 

“Nice. Hey, dude, I’m going on my lunch break. Wanna come with? We could get some pizza or something.” Ray smiled, almost hopeful.

 

Travis shrugged. “Yeah, ok,” he said and slid the headphones off his head. He followed Ray to the food court where they ordered some tacos. Ray ordered a double sized portion and led Travis through an “employees only” access door. Down a long corridor and into a back office. Travis froze in the doorway. Bob was sitting on a desk, smoking and chatting to Mikey’s yoghurt shop girl. Bob looked up and smiled at Ray before holding his hands out for his tacos. Ray shook his head and claimed a kiss before handing them over. Travis choked on his smoothie.

 

Ray turned to look at Travis, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah, so...”

 

Bob just glared, daring Travis to say the wrong thing.

 

“So, you two are...” he trailed off.

 

“Madly in love?” yoghurt shop girl offered. “Stupid for eachother?” Bob turned to glare at her.

 

Ray shrugged. “I guess. I mean...” he looked at Bob for confirmation.

 

“We’re dating.” Bob said.

 

Travis said the only thing he could think. “Cool.”

 

Yoghurt girl shrugged, put out her cigarette and stood up. “I gotta go. See you two later,” she smiled and closed the door behind her. Travis took her vacated seat and picked at his tacos while trying to discreetly watch Ray and Bob share their lunch.

 

“Travis, are you gonna eat that?” Bob asked, pointing at the nearly demolished taco in his hand.

 

He shrugged and continued to break the shell into pieces. Bob heaved a sigh.

 

“Ok, out with it. What’s eating you?”

 

“Like you don’t already know,” Travis said softly.

 

“Look, we know the drama. You know the drama. Maybe you should start cleaning up your mess.”

 

“Bob,” Ray scolded him. “That’s a bit harsh.” Bob shrugged in reply.

 

“Fine, mister all knowing zen master,” Travis threw the taco away. “How can I fix this? How do I get Gerard and Mikey to talk to me again? How do I know Linda will never tell my mom? How do I figure out if Saporta’s just fucking with me or if he really means it?”

 

He froze when he realised what he’d just said. Ray owlishly blinded at him. Bob frowned.

 

“First,” Bob said around the straw of his soda “fix things with Gerard and Mikey. Also, I don’t think Linda’s gonna say anything to anyone. She’s got too much to lose. Wish she’d thought about it before playing Mrs Robinson with your dumb ass.”

 

“And the other stuff?” Travis asked.

 

Ray pinned him with a pointed look. “Do what everyone else does to forget shit – get laid.”

 

Travis decided his friends give the shittiest advice, ever.

**

 

It was Christmas eve and Travis found himself on the pavement in front of the Ways house. He dragged on his cigarette, trying to build up the courage to knock on the door. To his surprise, Gerard came out, bundled up in an old army coat and wearing a poor boy cap. He stopped short when he spotted Travis and ignoring him, turned to walk down the pavement.

 

Travis chased after him. “Hey, Gerard. Wait, dude. I need to talk to you.”

 

Gerard turned to Travis with a death glare. “I have nothing to say to you, asshole.” By now, Travis had caught up and was walking next to Gerard. Their breath came out in cloudy wisps in the cold air.

 

“Look, Gee, I’m really sorry. Ok? I fucked up. I...I had a speech about how I honour the sanctity of brodom, but I just.” He grabbed Gerard’s arm to face him. “Dude, I want my best friend back. And I have no idea how do fix it.”

 

Gerard pulled out a cigarette, lit it and stared at Travis while smoking it. After half the cigarette was ash, Gerard nodded to himself.

 

“Look, Travis, I’m not mad that you slept with Frank’s mom. A little grossed out, maybe. I’m mad cos you decided we weren’t worth your trust. You just go behind our backs with something that could land you expelled and Frank’s mom in prison. I know I’m not the most together guy around here, but you’re making me look like a fucking genius in the life decisions department.”

 

Travis nodded.

 

“And what’s worse is that I know you’re keeping even more secrets from me. I don’t know what they are, but to be honest, it totally sucks not being the person you want to talk to anymore.” Gerard finished the cigarette and ground it under his boot.

 

“Fuck, Gee, I’m so sorry man. I just, sometimes things work like the CIA – the less you know the better.” Travis fell into step as Gerard continued to walk down the pavement. “I want to tell you everything, but you’ve already judged me once.”

 

“Ok,” Gerard said, lighting up another cigarette and handing it to Travis. “Sorry I was a fuckwit who judged you. I was in shock.”

 

“Sorry I was the asshole who lied. I was just...there’s no excuse.” Travis shrugged. “So, where you going anyway?”

 

“The Mall. Got to get Mikey and my gran something. It is Christmas.”

 

“So it is.”

 

“Dr Who marathon later?” Gerard asked.

 

“Sure,” Travis said. His mom usually falls asleep by 8pm after crying during The Holiday and Its A Wonderful Life.

 

They walked in companionable silence until they reached the mall. Gerard didn’t notice Travis’ eyes linger on Gabe’s house as they passed it.

 

**

 

The first day back at school after the Christmas break Gerard and Travis were walking up the stairs towards the main building when Travis suddenly stopped short. Gerard wasn’t looking where they were going as he had his nose buried in Mikey’s copy of Hell Boy, so he bumped straight into his friend.

 

“Travis, why’d you stop?” he mumbled, trying to catch his balance.

 

Travis couldn’t find words. There, in front of the administration block, stood Saporta. And he was hugging a very leggy blonde woman.

 

“Who’s that?” Gerard asked, seeing the couple as well.

 

Travis shrugged. “Dunno. Let’s get inside, my balls are freezing.”

 

The two carried on into the building, Travis unable to keep his eyes off Saporta and his mystery woman.

 

In homeroom, Travis got called to the office. Mrs Howitz was waiting for him with a new class schedule.

 

“What the... why do I have a new class schedule?” he asked, waving the paper around.

 

Mrs Howitz shrugged. “I just work here, honey”

 

Travis examined his new schedule and found he had English in a new classroom and if he didn’t hurry, he was going to be late.

 

He reached English just in time and grabbed an empty seat, which was unfortunately in the front of the class. Pulling out his notebook, he sat back and waited.

 

A few minutes later, the leggy blonde he’d seen Saporta hugging outside walked in, an appealing swagger in her hips. Travis licked his lips before catching himself. What the fuck was going on?

 

The blonde turned to look at the class.

 

“Good morning, I’m Ms Ivarsson.” And she was hot. Travis could swear that he heard most of the guys in his class start panting.

 

The class was uneventful for the most part and Travis spent most of the lesson ignoring everything the new teacher said. His brain kept replaying the hug he had witnessed earlier that morning. Were Saporta and Ivarsson dating? Friends didn’t hug like that. They must be dating.

 

He totally played Travis, like the stupid teenager he was. Travis felt his blood begin to boil. This was further evidence to Saporta fucking with his head. And he had had enough. As soon as the bell rang, he stormed out of the class and headed straight for his old English class.

 

As he burst through the door, Saporta looked up from the conversation he was having with a student.

 

“McCoy?” he asked.

 

“We need to talk,” Travis said through his teeth.

 

The other student looked from Saporta to Travis, and back again, a frown between his eyes. “I’m just gonna...” he pointed to the door and scuttled off, giving Travis a wide berth closing the door behind him.

 

The teacher and student stared each other down for a few minutes.

 

“You wanted to talk?” Gabe prompted Travis.

 

“I’m sorry. Ok? I shouldn’t have... you know,” Travis waved his hand about in an almost spartic way. “It was a bad idea.”

 

Gabe nodded, but kept quiet.

 

“It’s totally your fault,” Travis continued.

 

Gabe blinked. “My fault? I wasn’t the one doing the kissing here.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re the one that was waxing lyrical about the joys of gay...sex.”

 

“Puh-lees,” Gabe huffed out a laugh.

 

“Oh, yeah? Then what about the book? Its all about guys fucking other guys.” Travis could feel the dread in his stomach grow and curl around his spine.

 

“I think you completely missed the point of that book,” Gabe crossed his arms. “If you’re having a sexuality crisis, can I recommend you use someone else to experiment on.”

 

“My sexuality crisis? What the fuck? You’ve just spent half the year flirting with me! You told me all this shit about dating guys being better and then you find yourself a girlfriend over the holidays? And you transfer me to her class? You’re more of an asshole than I thought!”

 

Gabe had the good grace to keep his eyes on the floor, arms crossed. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. Suddenly the door opened and Ms Ivarsson walked in, long legs carrying her past Travis to Gabe’s side.

 

“Gabe, I need to ask you about the reading material. I really think...” she paused, the k rolling off her tongue as she looked between the two men. “Did I interrupt anything?”

 

Travis snorted. “No, we’re done,” he said and turned to leave. He ignored Gabe calling his name.

 

**

 

“Ohmigod,” Disashi said, sliding his tray in next to Travis. “Did you see the new English teacher. So hot, legs up to here,” he indicated to his neck.

 

Travis snorted and picked at his rubbery mac and cheese.

 

“Why did we get another English teacher anyway?” Gerard asked, unwrapping a fruit roll up.

 

Everyone at the table exchanged confused looks and shrugged.

 

“Who cares, “ Disashi said around a mouth full of food. “All I know is she’s hot.”

 

“Wasn’t she the one outside this morning with Saporta?” Gerard asked Travis who snorted again, threw down his fork. And left the table.

 

He heard Disashi ask Gerard what was up as he walked away.

 

**

Saporta was waiting for Travis after school that day. Travis stormed into the classroom and threw the summoning note on the desk in disgust.

 

“A note, in my locker? Are you kidding me?” Travis seethed.

 

“Look, Travis, just sit down and listen to me, please.” Gabe dragged a hand through his hair and sighed softly.

 

Travis huffed and slumped into the nearest desk.

 

“Maja is just a friend of mine, ok? Her girlfriend got a transfer to the city and they moved here. I helped her get a job here.”

 

Travis let the information sink in.

 

“So, she’s not your new girlfriend?” he asked.

 

Gabe huffed a laugh. “Not for lack of trying,”

 

Travis frowned, his lips a thin line.

 

“We’ve known eachother since high school.” Gabe sank into his chair. “I don’t even know why I’m justifying this to you.”

 

“I’m just tired of you messing with my head,” Travis said.

 

“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do. I’ve fucked up and I just need you to know that...” Gabe trailed off, head bowed.

 

Travis looked closely at his teacher and began to notice that his shirt was wrinkled more than a normal day’s wear. His hair was very mussed up and there was more than a 5 o’clock shadow darkening his cheeks. Saporta let out a soft giggle.

 

“What?” Travis asked as Gabe’s giggling grew louder and slightly hysterical. “Dude, what?”

 

Gabe looked up and burst out laughing.

 

“What the fuck?” Travis asked.

 

“You...you’re...jealous!” Gabe gasped out.

 

Travis boggled at the statement. Crossing his arms, he glared at Saporta. “No, I’m not.”

 

“I’m such an idiot,” Gabe tried to swallow his giggles. “That little tantrum this morning, you were totally jealous!”

 

“Could you stop laughing?” Travis gritted out.

 

Gabe shook his head. “It’s so cute that you’re all jealous.”

 

“I’m not jealous,” Travis bit out.

 

“Yeah, as much as you’re not gay.” Gabe blurted out.

 

Travis had had enough. He stood quickly and stalked over to Gabe’s desk in two steps. He crowded his teacher backwards until he was trapped against the wall. Gabe bit back his giggles and looked Travis in the eye as Travis invaded his personal space.

 

“I’m not,” Travis said softly before planting a solid kiss on Gabe’s lips. Gabe froze for a few seconds before grabbing the front of Travis’ t-shirt and pulling him into his lap. The kiss turned dirty very quickly. Travis let a small moan escape, causing Gabe to pull him even closer.

 

This was unlike any other kiss he’d ever had. He could feel Gabe’s stubble rub against his chin, Gabe’s fingers digging into his neck and back and Gabe’s tongue exploring his mouth. Travis breathed in deeply through his nose and caught the subtle scent of Gabe’s aftershave. He suddenly felt very dizzy and turned on like he’d never been before. A loud bang echoed and Travis jumped off Gabe’s lap.

 

He looked towards the door and there, face pale and eyes wide stood Gerard. His bag on the floor by his feet.

 

“Ger-“ Travis started.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Gerard spluttered. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s our fucking teacher Travis!” He pointed to Gabe. “And you! He’s your student!” Gerard scrabbled to grab his bag and ran down the corridor.

 

“Fuck,” Gabe spat softly. Travis couldn’t agree more.

 

**

 

“Gerard, answer your fucking phone dude,” Travis said as he walked home. “It wasn’t what it looked like,” he rolled his eyes at the clichés spilling out of his mouth. “Ok, so not exactly like it looked like. It’s complicated. I just... answer your phone!” Travis hung up and stared at his phone.

 

After Gerard bolted, Gabe sat there muttering about losing his job and cursing his ancestors and his stupid DNA. Travis ignored most of it, staring at the now vacant spot where Gerard stood, knowing that his friend would never forgive him now.

 

“This is such a fucking bad idea,” Travis said and took Gabe’s hand, halting the muttering. Gabe looked at him with large brown eyes. Travis leaned in and kissed Gabe on the cheek. “I want this,” he whispered. “I really do. I’ll talk to Gerard.”

 

Gabe smiled, uncertain at Travis’ words. “I hope so.”

 

Travis sighed. His life had turned into a Kevin Williamson show when he wasn’t looking and he was not built to deal with this level of angst.

 

So, now he was walking home, in the cold and trying to call his best friend who had obviously turned off his phone. He turned into the block where Gerard lived and pressed redial.

 

“Gerard, dude, please answer your phone.” He hung up.

 

By now he was in front of the house and suddenly had no idea what he was going to say to his friend. Shrugging off the gloom curling up his spine, he headed to the basement door and pushed it open. The Replacements blared out of the old stereo in the corner and Gerard was slumped on his bed, eyes far away.

 

Travis went to stand in front of the bed, catching Gerard’s eye.

 

“I need to learn to lock that door,” Gerard grouched, frowning at Travis, which made him feel like he’d kicked a puppy to death before sacrificing it to Lady Gaga. Only, worse.

 

“Gerard, I – “ Travis began. Gerard cut him off.

 

“I knew something was up. I just knew it. But Mr Saporta? Travis, it’s wrong. It’s illegal! Its gross, he’s like 30.” Gerard scrunched up his face.

 

“He’s 23,” Travis said.

 

“Whatever. It’s just...so wrong.”

 

“The teacher part? Or the gay part?” Travis snapped.

 

“The teacher part, you dumbass. How long have you two been...” Gerard waved his hand in an attempt to simulate sex. It looked odd.

 

“We haven’t done anything. You...it was...nothing. We’ve done nothing.”

 

“Did he force this on you?” Gerard asked.

 

“No,” Travis hunched his shoulders before sitting down next to Gerard and telling him the whole story from Halloween. Gerard, being the awesome friend that he is, listened.

 

**

Bob often wondered at the drama his new friends created for themselves. Sleeping with their friend’s moms, selling drugs to teachers, and generally being consciously naive. When he first realised that he liked guys and not just any guy, but Ray Toro in particular, there hadn’t been any drama. He’d been watching Ray walk towards the locker room after practice and followed him. There was small talk until Bob was sure everyone else had left. He then invited Ray out for dinner. Since then, they’d been inseparable.

 

So it was a mystery why everyone else didn’t own their decisions and make better choices.

 

He swung the baseball bat and missed the ball being spat out of the machine. The batting cage behind the school was one of the quietest places in town. Bob often went there to zen out and relax.

 

His zen was broken by a jittery Gerard who decided to loiter behind the fencing.

 

“Stop being a spaz, Way.” Bob said, getting ready for the next ball.

 

“I’m not,” Gerard said and looped his fingers through the fence. “It’s just. You know when you have a friend who’s doing the wrong thing and then you tell them it’s the wrong thing but they still won’t listen? Only the wrong thing is pretty awesome, but totally wrong. Not that part, but the other part.”

 

Bob swung the bat, missed the ball and shot a glance at Gerard.

 

“I mean. It’s wrong to condemn someone for doing stuff. But some stuff is just wrong. It’s like in Buffy. She knows she can’t be with Angel because he’s old and a teacher, I mean, vampire and she still goes for it and they both end up miserable and Angel ends up in prison, well, you know, the demon dimension and they could have saved themselves all that shit just by saying no.”

 

Bob swung the bat and connected with the ball. It flew to the far corner of the cage and landed with a thud.

 

“It’s like when we’re in kindergarten and the teachers tell us to say no to drugs and strangers and stuff. Just say no.”

 

Bob sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to Gerard who had continued to ramble.

 

“Is this going to be a long speech without a point?” Bob asked.

 

“No,” Gerard spluttered. “I have a point.”

 

Bob raised his eyebrows expectantly.

 

“It’s just a complicated point.”

 

“A three patch problem?” Bob had been spending far too much time with the Ways.

 

Gerard’s eyes widened and with a look of utter misery announced. “It’s a four patch problem.”

 

**

Gabe stepped out of his house the next morning and stamped his feet to warm them up against the icy cold porch. When he looked up, a very angry young Gerard Way was standing in his garden, glaring at him.

 

“Mr Way?” Gabe squinted at the pissy student. “School doesn’t start for another hour.”

 

“Mr Saporta, you might be a cool English teacher, but you’re a total asshole as a human being.”

 

“Excuse me?” Gabe spluttered.

 

“Travis is my best friend, and I don’t appreciate people fucking with my best friend.” Gerard, if possible, looked angrier.

 

“Gerard, I’m not fucking your best friend,” at least not yet. Gabe kind of hated himself for thinking the last part.

 

“Let’s keep it that way,” Gerard scowled and stomped away.

 

Gabe stared after him. He should be thanking his stars that Gerard hadn’t threatened to report him to the school board, but the underlying dread he felt squashed that feeling dead.

 

“Face it, Gabe, you’ve fucked up,” he said, climbing into his car and starting the engine.

 

Thing is, Gabe hadn’t meant to fall for Travis, but there was something about the lanky 18 year old that just set his nerves on fire. Ever since he ran him down in the hall the first day of school, and saw him on his back, looking up at him, Gabe had been fighting the urge to push him up against the nearest wall and have his way with him. Which was wrong. So very, very wrong. Maybe he was just missing William, or Vicky or all of his exes. Gabe was self aware enough to realise that maybe his attraction to Travis was spurred on by the voice inside that was telling him to rebel against the suburban existence he’d carved out for himself, at Vicky’s insistence. He wasn’t sure. But he was sure that Travis kissing him back was real and the fact that he looked forward to their afternoon tutorials was real. He just hoped and prayed that Travis felt the same and that none of it would leak to the wrong people.

 

Gabe banged his head against his steering wheel in frustration. He was truly and epically fucked.

 

When Gabe pulled into his parking spot at the school, a large, blonde student was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Gabe vaguely recognised him as one of the football players. Ignoring the glare being aimed at him through his windscreen, Gabe parked his car and climbed out. The footballer fell into step with Gabe as he walked towards the administration building.

 

“You know,” the footballer began “My mom taught me there’s a big difference between good decisions and bad decisions.”

 

Gabe felt his mouth go dry and glanced at the boy walking next to him.

 

“Now, good decisions, they have good consequences. Which is what everyone likes. Now, bad decisions. They’re the kicker. You don’t know you’ve made one until someone gets hurt.”

 

The student turned to stand in front of Gabe, blocking his way and looked him straight in the eye.

 

“I know what’s going on, Mr Saporta, and I’m only going to say this once. Make the right choice here and I won’t go to the authorities.”

 

Gabe balked at the threat. “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

The student just raised an eyebrow, shrugged and walked away.

 

Gabe decided it was time to make a new life plan.

 

**

Gerard was leaning against Travis’ locker, a smirk on his face. Travis gulped. Gerard smirking was a step up from frowning, but not always a good thing.

 

“I don’t think Saporta is gonna be bothering you anymore,” Gerard said as Travis opened his locker door.

 

“Tell me you didn’t go Eastern Promises on his ass,” Travis said, picturing Gerard tying Gabe to a chair and cutting his fingers off. He was not surprised to find it wasn’t hard to imagine.

 

“I wish,” Gerard muttered. “No, I just think he’ll stay away from you.”

 

Travis slammed his locker shut. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want him to stay away from me?”

 

“Travis, this teacher kink you have is going to get you and him in trouble.” Gerard hissed, trying not to be heard through the din of the crowded corridor.

 

“I don’t have a teacher kink!”

 

“Your track record begs to differ,” Gerard pointed out.

 

“Look, I know it’s totally inconvenient, but I just... don’t see him as a teacher, you know?” he leaned against his locker and tilted his head back.

 

“No, Travis, I don’t know. To me, teachers are teachers. They don’t go home, they sleep in the supply closet and give us tons of homework and detention,” Gerard’s words were edged with sarcasm.

 

“Don’t be an asshole,” Travis warned.

 

“You don’t be an asshole,” Gerard snapped back. “We graduate in a few months. Keep it in your pants until then, that’s all I’m saying.” With that, he pushed off into the stream of students.

 

“Lord knows I’m trying,” Travis muttered and headed to Biology.

 

**

 

Bob was waiting for Travis after school at his locker. Travis smiled and walked over quickly.

 

“Hey Bob,” Travis said, opening his locker and dumping his books. “What’s up?”

 

“Ray’s got band practice. Thought I’d walk home with you.”

 

Travis panicked for a second. He was planning on heading over to Saporta’s house for a tutorial and definitely a make out session. Bob was thwarting his plans. But then again, Bob didn’t know his afternoon plans, so he made some up.

 

“That sounds awesome, but I actually have to go to...church...with my...gran,” Travis mentally facepalmed himself.

 

Bob gave a small smile, clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him down the corridor towards the exit. “I’m sure god will let you play hooky just this once.”

 

They had been walking for a few blocks in silence, Bob staring at the pavement with a frown between his eyes and Travis very confused at the whole situation.

 

Bob cleared his throat, catching Travis’ attention.

 

“Travis, remember when I told you not to go ahead with your other plan?” He started.

 

Travis nodded.

 

“You obviously didn’t listen, did you?”

 

Travis shook his head.

 

“You do realise that this whole thing can only end badly, right?”

 

Travis nodded again.

 

Bob sighed. “As long as you’re realistic about the consequences and don’t come running to me crying afterwards.”

 

Travis nodded again.

 

Bob gave him a nod in return and walked off.

 

“What the fuck just happened?” he asked.

 

**

 

Maja was stretched out on Gabe’s couch that night, wine glass in hand and a smirk on her face. She watched her friend listlessly wander around the living room, drinking his way through a case of beer.

 

“Gabe, babe,” she giggled at her joke. “What’s the matter? Did Vicky call you again? Or was it William?”

 

Maja didn’t have any love left for Gabe’s former partners. Both had manipulated Gabe into getting what they wanted (William got his sexuality experiment and Vicky got her taste of domestic life) before breaking him down and leaving him in pieces. She watched as he disappeared into the basement and came back up with a boa constrictor across his shoulders.

 

She cooed at the snake. “I didn’t know you still had old Sammy.”

 

Gabe shrugged. “I couldn’t give him away,” the boa coiled its tail around his arm while its head bobbed against his knee, tongue flicking in and out.

 

“So, want to tell me what’s got you channelling your inner Amy Winehouse?” Maja indicated the empty bottles littering the coffee table.

 

Gabe shrugged carefully and the snake rippled around him. “I’ve done something very stupid,” he admitted.

 

“Stupid as in I-walked-into-a-glass-door, or stupid as in I-accidently-hit-on-an-alqueda-website-and-now-the-CIA-wants-to-question-me?”

 

“Stupid as in I could lose my job and go to prison,” Gabe grumbled before taking a long swig of his beer.

 

“Gabe,” Maja leaned forward trying to catch his eyes. He kept his head down. She slid off the couch and careful not to startle Sammy, pressed his chin up with two fingers. “Gabe, what have you done?”

 

“I’ve...” he shook his head to dislodge her fingers. “I’ve developed... feelings.”

 

Maja blinked. “Feelings? Well, that’s usually a good thing.”

 

“For a student,” Gabe rushed out.

 

“That’s not such a good thing,” she replied. “Oh Saporta. You silly man.”

 

“I know, I know. I just. It just hit me. Out of nowhere.”

 

“Have you...” Maja waved her hand at him. Gabe bit his lip. “Shit, Gabe. You’ve slept with a student?”

 

“No, not slept. Just.. kissed. He started it.”

 

“Bullshit. What did you do?” Maja had his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.

 

“I...was drunk and I told him shit he shouldn’t have known and it just snowballed from there.” He brought his beer bottle up to his lips only to find it empty. Carefully laying Sammy on the carpet, he grabbed another bottle from the case. He then cuddled up next to Maja against the couch and told her everything.

 

Once he finished his tale of awkward, illegal crushes and kisses, they sat in silence, Maja processing everything.

 

“Gabe,” she said softly, “What are you going to do?”

 

Gabe sniffed and drained the last of his beer. “I’ve put a plan into motion. Should solve this whole thing.”

 

“And in the meantime?” Maja prompted.

 

“I avoid him like the plague.”

 

**

 

Ever since the very awkward encounter with Bob, Travis felt as if his skin didn’t fit right. He also noticed that his friends seemed to be going out of their way to keep him away from Gabe. There were guitar hero sessions, Buffy marathons, kick ball games (although Gerard usually made some excuse about homework and disappeared right after the ball was brought out) and study groups.

 

He hadn’t seen Gabe for nearly two weeks and it irked him. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Travis bunked last period maths and snuck out of the school. He turned off his phone and headed to Gabe’s house.

 

Gabe was still at school so Travis waited on the porch, chain smoking the cigarettes he won during a game of poker, even though none of the boys really knew how to play.

 

An hour later, Gabe pulled into the driveway. He stayed in the car, watching Travis for a long time. Eventually, Gabe realised that Travis wasn’t going anywhere and reluctantly got out of the car. He ambled up to the porch, trying to give an air of nonchalance. Travis stood as Gabe got closer.

 

“Took your time,” Travis said, leaning against the railing.

 

“Travis, go home,” Gabe said, using his ‘teacher voice’. Travis just shrugged.

 

“I thought we have a standing tutorial arrangement.”

 

“At school yes, not at my house. You’re trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you?” Gabe glared at the youngster, who looked pretty delectable with his jeans hanging off his hips, tattoos peaking out of his sleeves.

 

“I’m trying to get some school work done,” Travis countered and stood firm.

 

Gabe sighed and unlocked the door. Travis bundled him into the house and slammed the door closed before pushing Gabe up against the nearest wall. Gabe visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

 

“Look, Travis, two kisses can be forgiven and forgotten. If we do this, there’s no going back,” he was mentally clawing at the responsible adult voice in his head before it disappeared in the haze of lust. He could feel Travis’ leg slide between his own.

 

“Gabe, I want this.”

 

Travis kissed him, immediately running his tongue along Gabe’s lips to push inside and explore his mouth. Gabe tasted the tang of cigarettes and it sent the blood from his head rushing to his dick. He pushed his hips against Travis, searching for more friction. A muffled groan escaped into the air, but neither knew who made it.

 

Gabe grabbed at Travis’ shirt and pulled him closer, revelling in the heat emanating from him. His hands ran up Travis’ back and around to his chest. He pushed off the heavy jacket, forcing Travis’ to drop his hands, letting the jacket fall to the floor.

 

In a move that surprised even Gabe, he turned Travis until he was against the wall, pressing against him until Travis broke the kiss to gulp down some air. Gabe ran his tongue up Travis’ neck and buried his nose in the soft hair behind his ear, his tongue tracing the skin there.

 

Travis felt dizzy with the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. This was it. This was happening. He’d made it happen. And he was enjoying it more than he thought he would. He tried to speak, but his tongue had forgotten how to form words. Guttural sounds escaped his throat. His hands moved of their own accord and pushed Gabe’s blazer to the floor before unwinding the scarf from his neck. Gabe bit gently at the skin behind his ear and Travis had to concentrate on not coming in his pants right there.

 

He felt Gabe’s hands move from his back down towards his pants, creeping into his back pockets before pressing into his ass, tugging him closer against Gabe.

 

He pulled his head back until his lips were brushing Travis’ ear.

 

“I’m going to pull down your pants,” he whispered in a husky voice, “and suck your cock. If you don’t want me to, I suggest you say so now.”

 

Travis nearly swallowed his tongue and found himself pushing down on Gabe’s shoulders. With a smirk, he undid Travis’ belt and pulled his jeans down as he sank to his knees. Leaving the jeans pooled around Travis’ ankles, Gabe ran his hands up Travis’ legs until they reached his boxers. With his tongue, Gabe traced the outline for Travis’ cock through the soft cotton before slipping his fingers beneath the elastic band and pulled them down as well.

 

Travis looked down at Gabe, his cock standing erect and in line with Gabe’s mouth. He didn’t have time to blush before Gabe was licking at it, running his tongue in long, luxurious laps up and down sending electric shivers through Travis’ body.  His knees began to quake when Gabe finally took him in his mouth, as far as the back of his throat. With the head of his cock lodged firmly inside, Gabe groaned and the vibrations caused Travis’ balls to tighten. Gabe pulled back slowly, slicking up Travis with each inch. When the head was caught between his lips, he pushed back again, until his nose was barely brushing Travis’ pubes.

 

He kept up the slow torturous rhythm. Slow, lazy and intoxicating.

 

Tremors shook Travis where he stood, his hands clenched at his sides, sheer will power keeping him upright and his orgasm at bay. Gabe’s fingers slowly crept around Travis’ thighs until his hands cupped his ass. He squeezed and kneaded and carefully moved them closer to the cleft between his cheeks. With one digit, Gabe began to softly stroke the skin around Travis’ entrance.

 

Travis’ nerves sent an electric jolt to his cock and before he could croak out a warning, he came in Gabe’s mouth and on his chin.

 

Gabe pulled away gasping and huffed out a laugh as he wiped away the come from his face. Travis sank to the floor, his legs unable to hold him up any longer. His heart was racing and his lungs burning.

 

“That was...” he finally gasped out.

 

“Awesome?” Gabe tried, catching Travis’ eye.

 

Travis pulled him in, until Gabe was straddling his legs. He kissed Gabe, all tongue and teeth.

 

“Yeah, awesome.”

 

While Travis waited to gain control over his legs, he noticed that Gabe’s pants were still on and his cock was straining against the fly. The bravado from his orgasm caused him to run his fingers over the bulge. Gabe let out a strangled whimper and pressed into the touch. Travis arched an eyebrow in question. Gabe nodded, biting his lower lip.

 

Without much fumbling, Travis got Gabe’s pants open and his dick out. He marvelled at the thought that he was holding another man’s cock and it didn’t feel weird. Well, not as weird as he thought it would be. He wrapped his fingers around it, so his knuckles caressed Gabe’s stomach and experimentally ran his hand up and down over Gabe’s cock.

 

Gabe whined, high in his throat, his hips chasing the movement. Travis kept his hand still and tightened his fingers. Gabe grabbed at his shoulders and began fucking Travis’ hand, hips snapping upwards. It didn’t take more than a few clenches of Travis’ hand before Gabe was coming, head buried in Travis’ neck. When Gabe came back into himself, he tucked his dick back in his pants and climbed off Travis, leaning against the wall next to him.

 

“Huh,” he huffed.

 

“True dat,” Travis replied and lit a cigarette for each of them.

 

**

 

As the winter gave way to spring and the temperatures began to climb, Gabe and Travis kept up the affair in secret.

 

Gabe was still the target for death glares from Gerard and Bob, but he knew it was just friends looking out for friends. Maja also pressed for details, but he evaded her questions and after a while she seemed to accept his lies about nothing going on between him and Travis.

 

It was March and prom madness had gripped the seniors. Girls were dieting, guys were working out and hotels in the area geared themselves for a night of drunken teenage debauchery.

 

When Gabe brought up the question of who Travis was going to ask to prom, he just snorted.

 

“Why would I want to go to prom?” he asked, sitting against the wall, legs tangling with Gabe’s in his bed.

 

They had just finished a very exhausting round of blowjobs and were basking in the laze of a post orgasm afterglow.

 

Gabe shrugged. “That’s how it goes, Travie. Prom is like the reward for surviving high school. It’s the night you get to do and say things you can’t usually get away with. You should take Katy. I’ve seen the way she looks at you in the corridors.”

 

Travis huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, she’s dating some college guy. Strange hair. Weird accent,” He stretched his back in a cat like movement and slid across to lie against Gabe. “You wanna come with me to prom?”

 

He felt Gabe stiffen and sat up.

 

“Don’t say things like that, Travie. Don’t even entertain thoughts like that,” Gabe said, jaw clenched.

 

“Come on, you know I was kidding.” Travis tried to laugh it off.

 

“Were you?” Gabe narrowed his eyes.

 

“Ok, so it was a slip of the tongue. Come on, man. I don’t want to fight. It’s pointless,” Travis tried to lean in for a kiss, but Gabe turned away.

 

“Maybe you should go home, Travis,” Gabe said tersely. He climbed out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom. Travis could hear the shower starting.

 

As with all things in Travis’ life, he sat back and asked “What the fuck just happened?”

 

**

Travis stared at his phone as it lay silent on his desk. Since Gabe kicked him out of the house a week ago, he hasn’t heard a thing from the dude. Travis knew that the affair wasn’t true love. They weren’t even dating. It was...well, he wasn’t actually sure.

He knew that he liked Gabe and he liked having sex with Gabe, but did that make him totally gay? Or just gay for Gabe?

 

His phone rang, and he jumped to answer it.

 

“So, we’ve decided that we’re gonna crash prom,” Disashi said, foregoing hellos.

 

“We’re what? Why?”

 

“Cos going stag to prom is so 90s. Also, my mom doesn’t want to rent a tux for me,” Disashi explained, with what sounded like a cigarette between his lips.

 

“’Sashi, I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

 

“Fuck you. I’m at the Ways'. We’re having a meeting about it.” The phone clicked, ending the call.

 

With a shrug, Travis grabbed a sweater and went over to the Ways'.

 

**

 

“So, what I'm thinking is, we dress like ninjas and spike the punch,” Disashi was holding court while Gerard, Bob, Ray, and Nate watched him from the couch. Mikey was on the bean bag texting.

 

“I don’t feel like getting the shit kicked out of me on prom night,” Gerard pointed out. “Why don’t we just stay here and watch movies?”

 

Disashi rolled his eyes. “Cos it’s prom. We can watch movies any other night. Come on,” he pushed out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

Travis walked up behind Disashi and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be an asshole ‘Sashi. You know there's a lot of people who want a good night.”

 

“When did you become Mr Sensitivity? Last year you said you had some serious plans for prom.” Disashi poked his chest with a finger.

 

“Things change. We should go. Make a night of it.”

 

“Like Swingers?” Gerard suggested.

 

Bob cleared his throat. “Ray and I are going anyway.” Ray blushed happily beside him.

 

“Yeah, but you’re on the football team,” Disashi said. “Gives you auto immunity or something. The rest of us aren’t that lucky.”

 

“Then get a fucking date man.” Travis said. “Why are we even discussing this?”

 

“Who’d wanna go to prom with us?” Disashi replied, throwing his arm wide.

 

Gerard squirmed in his seat until Bob elbowed him. “Speak up Way,” he grumbled.

 

“So, there’s this ah...person...that I asked. Well, she asked me..but that’s not...thing is...uuhhh...I uh...have a date.” Gerard blushed.

 

“Well, whoopdeedoo for you,” Disashi snapped. “And you Travis? You also got all Sadie Hawkins’d?”

 

“No,” he said quickly. “I’ll just, you know, borrow a tux and hang out with you guys. Come on Disashi, it’s not gonna be the end of the world.”

 

Disashi glared at the group. “I’ll see you guys after prom.” With that, he stormed out of the basement.

 

“You got a date?” Ray asked Gerard, who blushed furiously and fumbled with the remote to turn up the volume on the TV.

 

**

 

Travis knocked on Gabe’s door later that night.

 

“Look, if I promise to never mention prom again, can we please go back to having orgasms?” he said as Gabe answered the door.

 

Gabe smiled at him and pulled him upstairs to his room. They collided in the doorway, kissing furiously.

 

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Travis breathed.

 

“Me too,” Gabe agreed and suddenly stilled.

 

“What?” Travis asked, looking concerned.

 

“I wanna ask you a favour,” Gabe said softly.

 

“Yeah, sure, what is it?” Travis asked.

 

“Fuck me? Please?” Gabe leaned forward and began kissing Travis again, who in turn was stunned by the request. How did one guy fuck another. He knew the technicalities, but why would Gabe want him to do that.

 

“You sure?” Travis asked, pushing Gabe back a few inches.

 

Gabe nodded. “Yeah, so very fucking sure.”

 

“Ok, tell me what to do.”

 

“Just keep kissing me,” Gabe said and pulled Travis to the bed.

 

Travis landed on top of Gabe and immediately went to push himself up, but Gabe had threaded his fingers through Travis’ hair and was holding him close. Pretty soon, Travis forgot all about Gabe’s request, and was enjoying the make out session, slowly pulling off items of clothing until they were lying naked against each other, fully turned on and pressing their hips together, searching for the friction they needed.

 

Gabe suddenly pulled away. Travis frowned in question.

 

“Remember?” he said, leaning over to the side table and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. Travis’ brain seemed to short circuit for a second before he nodded.

 

“Oh, yeah.” He licked his lips. “So, uh, how...what...um.” he suddenly felt very young and stupid.

 

“We’re gonna take it slow,” Gabe said holding out his hand. “Give me your hand.”

 

He then squirted some of the lube onto Travis’ fingers and spread it along the digits. Gabe then lay back and spread his legs wide.

 

“I’m sure you’ve got some idea of what to do now,” Gabe smirked.

 

Travis nodded and kneeled closer to Gabe, between his legs. He ran his lubed fingers down Gabe’s cock, from the tip until his balls. Gabe began to pant softly in anticipation. Travis ran his fingers over Gabe’s balls and back, until he reached Gabe’s entrance. He paused and looked at Gabe.

 

“Are you sure? Like definitely sure? Cos I’m not so sure you should be sticking something, anything, up an exit only hole.”

 

Gabe let out a strangled laugh. “Trust me, I’m going to like it.” As if to demonstrate, Gabe rolled his hips down, pressing against Travis’ fingers. Suddenly, Travis had his index finger knuckle deep in Gabe. He wiggled it around, causing Gabe to squirm.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Just...gnuh...in and ...out,” Gabe grit out between his teeth.

 

Oh.

 

Travis started moving his finger in and out, surprised at how not so gross the whole experience was turning out to be. He lined up his middle finger and pressed it in along with his index finger. He continued with the in and out motion and then recalled something he’d seen in one of his xtube visits. He began to scissor them, stretching Gabe as far as he could. Gabe was panting heavily now and gasped out “more, more,” so Travis added the rest of his fingers, lubing them up before pressing in. Gabe arched with a loud, wanton moan.

 

“Oh fuck, Travie, I’m gonna...” he grabbed the condom wrapper and basically threw it at Travis’ chest. Taking the hint, Travis rolled it on and lined himself up.

 

“Ready?” he asked Gabe, who was glistening with sweat, his knees almost bend to his ears. Gabe just nodded.

 

“Here goes,” Travis said and pushed in. It was tighter than anything he’d ever experienced before. Gabe’s head fell back against the pillows and a guttural groan escaped his lips. Travis paused and gave Gabe a speculative look.

 

“You ok?” he asked.

 

Gabe nodded and without any warning, pushed himself further onto Travis until he couldn’t go further. Travis’ eyes boggled. He felt his orgasm rushing towards him like a tsunami. In order to avoid coming there and then, he began to move, signing JayZ’s song Hate in his head. He leaned into Gabe’s neck and nipped at the sensitive skin there, running his tongue along the sinews just under the skin.

 

By now, Gabe was a babbling mess, pushing his hips up to meet every thrust from Travis. After a few minutes, Gabe paused in his babbling and cocked his head to the side. He huffed a laugh.

 

“Are you singing?” Gabe said around a smile.

 

Travis’ hips stuttered as he pushed himself up to face Gabe. “...no”

 

“You are,” Gabe giggled. “You’re totally singing. I can hear it.”

 

Travis smirked and tilted his hips slightly. “Oh yeah?” he thrust home harder than before. Gabe arched with the spike of pleasure that rocketed through his body. “Who’s singing now?”

 

Gabe was too close to coming to bother rolling his eyes and calling Travis a lameass.

 

**

 

“I’m gonna feel that in the morning,” Gabe hissed softly, rolling onto his side.

 

Travis put a hand to his cheek. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You said you wanted me to fuck you,”

 

Gabe laughed. “Chill, really. I’m ok. It was great.” He then started humming Hate. Travis hit him with a pillow.

 

 

At the night of the prom the boys decided to meet at Travis’ house to get ready. Gerard futzed with his collar, dislodging his clip on bow tie, which he’d catch as it fell, clip it back on and then go back to messing with his collar. It was a vicious cycle.

 

Bob and Ray were sitting on the porch swing, holding hands and whispering to each other until they were both blushing furiously. They wore matching dark red bow ties.

 

Travis was still up in his room, trying to tame the wild state that his hair normally resided in. His mom knocked on the bedroom door.

 

“Can I come in?” she asked, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a twinkle in her eye.

 

“As long as you promise not to cry,” Travis said.

 

“I make no guarantees.” She walked into the room and stood next to Travis in from of the dresser. He turned to face her, still fiddling with his hair.

“I should have put in cornrows or something,” he grouched.

 

“Don’t be silly,” his mom chided, adjusting his bow tie. “I’ve never seen you look so handsome.”

 

“Ah, ma, you’re turning this into a movie cliché,” Travis moaned.

 

“Mother’s prerogative. Now, have fun, but come home in one piece, please.” She said and planted a kiss on his cheek.

 

**

 

As the boys were submitting to the photographic demands of their parents, a hummer pulled up in the driveway. The boys exchanged surprised looks.

 

The door opened, and Disashi jumped out.

 

“Who’d you steal the hummer from?” Bob asked, looking conflicted between suspicious and delighted.

 

“I didn’t blow my allowance on a stupid tux, so I decided to blow it on this baby!” Disashi patted the cherry red bonnet.

 

“Are you seriously wearing a tuxedo t-shirt?” Gerard asked.

 

Disashi just smiled wider.

 

A shiny black BMW pulled up next to the hummer. Gerard smiled and waved to the guys. “That’s my ride,” he almost gloated and climbed into the car. The driver gunned the engine into the street and sped off.

 

“Was that...?” Travis asked

 

“...no, no way,” Ray shook his head.

 

Bob just shrugged.

 

“Let’s get this party started!” Disashi howled and clambered back into the hummer and turned on the radio. With a goodbye peck on the cheek to his mom, Travis joined his friends.

 

**

 

The prom was being held at the local country club, which overlooked a huge golf course. Disashi parked the hummer uncomfortably close to a Porsche 911.

 

“You’re never driving again,” Ray squeaked from the back seat.

 

“Chill dude, we’re here and we’re gonna rock this party,” Disashi did an abortive hip thrust type dance move that would make anyone uncomfortable seeing it.

 

“Let’s just get inside,” Travis said and herded his friends inside.

 

The prom committee really outdid themselves. The theme was Roman Gods and everywhere the boys looked, were mini statues of Michelangelo’s David.

 

“This is why themed parties suck,” Ray grouched, trying to avoid staring at the naked statuettes. “I mean, the statue of David isn’t even Roman.”

 

Bob just petted his shoulder and led him to the spiked punch. Travis spotted Gerard sitting at a table with his date. His friend may not have much luck with girls, but when they did, it was always the hot ones. A familiar smile caught his eye. Next to the DJ booth, almost hidden behind a statue of Aphrodite, stood Gabe.

 

Travis moved to the side to get a better look and his heart, the little traitor, skipped a beat at the sight of Gabe in a midnight blue tuxedo.

 

Before he could move closer, Disashi blocked him with two paper cups.

 

“Spiked punch?” Travis asked, taking one from his friend.

 

“Nah uh, don’t trust what they spike it with. I brought my own,” he waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to say ‘I'm totally hiding a hipflask in my underwear.’

 

Travis shrugged and took a sip. Cheap vodka and cherry coke. He spluttered as the vodka burned down his throat.

 

“Thanks,” he gasped as Disashi pounded him on the back. “I'm ok.”

 

The hall filled up quickly and soon everyone was sitting at tables, comparing dresses and dates. The principal stood in front of the DJ booth and with a loud whistle got the students to quieten down.

 

“Class of 2011,” he began.

 

Travis tuned out immediately and instead, searched for Gabe. The teacher was nowhere to be seen. Disashi elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“What?” Travis hissed.

 

“Dude, dude, check out Ms Ivarsson,” Disashi pointed to the side of the hall.

 

Maja was wearing a long, white, Grecian type dress. Curves filling all the right places and hair spilling over her shoulders in messy curls.

 

“I think I’m in love,” Disashi sighed. Travis rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

 

“-and we’d like to take this opportunity to thank Mr Saporta for his time at the school. We will be sorry to see you go-“ the principal said.

 

Travis sat up straight. Wait, what? Was Gabe leaving? What the fuck? He stood quickly and muttered something to Disashi regarding a bathroom and punch. He quietly left the hall and headed outside. He searched the area for Gabe, checking all the halls, the bar, the pool and finally out onto the golf course.

 

In the distance, he could see a shadow standing next to the water hazard. He’d recognise that stance anywhere. He stormed up to Gabe.

 

And promptly punched him in the face.

 

**

 

Travis spent his summer in a haze of misery. He took his time packing up his room for college and spent the rest of it hanging out with his friends playing video games. He’d consciously stopped thinking about Gabe and everything to do with him. He had ignored Gabe’s calls until they stopped coming altogether, the text messages dried up and there was nothing left of Gabe except this little hole in his heart. He even burned the book Gabe gave him along with his old school books. It wasn’t as cathartic as he thought it would be.

 

He’d forgotten what Gabe sounded like in bed, the smirks, the smiles and the stupid songs he’d make up in the shower. He pushed it all into the dark corners of his memory and left them there to fade.

 

**

 

The car was nearly bursting with bags as Travis carried the last box out. He unceremoniously shoved it in next to hit battered old hifi. His mom followed him out, a picnic basket in hand.

 

“Here, take this. It’s a long drive.” She pushed the basket into his hands.

 

Travis smiled. “Mom, I’m going to New York, not Texas.”

 

“Humour your old mother, please.” She said, matching his smile. “Text me as soon as you get settled, ok?”

 

“Will do,” he pulled his mom into a tight hug before dragging himself to the car. As he started the engine, a message beeped on his phone.

 

I HOPE YOUR TEACHER KINK DOESN’T TURN INTO A PROFESSOR KINK J

 

He rolled his eyes and texted back.

 

SEE YOU IN NY GEE

 

**

 

A week after Travis arrived in New York and settled into his dorm, classes started. He had yet to decide on a major and so took a few general classes.

 

He was already seated in his English Lit class when the side door opened and a familiar figure walked through.

 

“I’m Mr Saporta, and this is English Lit 101. I do not allow iPads and Kindles in my class. You will be reading the material as it was meant to be read. Printed on paper and bound in leather.”

 

Gabe paused as he caught Travis staring at him. He swallowed nervously before continuing.

 

“Our first book of the semester is Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Don’t bother watching the movie if you want to cheat, it’s pointless as the movie leaves out a lot of important plot points.”

 

Travis sat, frozen in his chair. Of all the universities in the country, he had to be in the class where Gabe was his teacher? Fuck that idea. He forced himself up and out of the class, Gabe ignoring him as he left.

 

**

 

Later that day, Gabe was sitting in his office putting together assignments for the next week. It was going dismally when he looked down and all he saw was Travis’ name all over the paper. A knock sounded on his door.

 

“Come in,” he sighed, throwing the paper away.

 

Travis stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. They stayed like that, staring at each other as though they were staring at an alien, or a Lady Gaga music video. I.e. horrified fascination.

 

“So,” Travis said, clearing his throat. “You’re teaching here now?”

 

Gabe nodded.

 

“Huh,” Travis crossed his arms.

 

“Look, Travis, I didn’t know you applied to go here. I didn’t even know you were assigned to my class.”

 

“Yeah, well, if I’d have known...” Travis trailed off, watching Gabe intently. “You know, you could have told me.”

 

“I know. I was a coward. I just... I got this offer and was supposed start immediately, but...I thought, I should just work out the year, make sure you got through.”

 

“So it’s my fault we slept together?” Travis said loudly.

 

“Sssshhhhh,” Gabe got up from behind his desk and took a deep breath. “Ok, here’s the deal. I liked you, a lot. Since day one. I just couldn’t do anything about it because of the whole teacher/student thing. And that was fine until you started being all interested. I just. This was my out and I put it off. I wanted to see if what we had was more than just a stupid high school crush. Which, obviously it was.”

 

Travis huffed, but kept quiet. Gabe leaned against his desk, facing Travis. “You know. You should have seen it coming. Did you honestly think that we could have carried on after you graduated? And let’s be honest, I was just your sexuality crisis experiment.” Gabe stared at the floor, unable to meet Travis’ eyes.

 

“You are an idiot,” Travis said. “Especially for someone as smart as you’re supposed to be.” He stepped closer to Gabe and took his hands in his own. “This whole thing started because I had a stupid idea. But I think somewhere between me kissing you and then punching you, I fell for you.”

 

Gabe looked up at Travis, his eyes searching for any sign that Travis was fucking with him. Travis just stood there, holding his hands, a small smile on his lips.

 

“You fell for me?” Gabe said finally. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”

 

Travis frowned. “What?”

 

“You’re my student again. You can’t go falling for your teachers Travis.”

 

“I’m not your student. I changed my classes.”

 

Gabe’s eyes widened. “You did that for me?”

 

“Well, yeah, I mean, I don’t want us to break up because you had to go to prison.” He smirked and then pulled Gabe in for a kiss.

 

**

 

Later, under Gabe’s desk...

 

“I feel like such a cliché,” Gabe groaned softly.

 

“Love you too,” Travis said, smiling as he leaned in for another kiss.

 

The End.

 

 

 


End file.
